Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys
by OurLoveIsForever
Summary: "Boys will be boys. Slytherins will be Slytherins. Combine the two and there will be trouble. On the pitch. In the dorm. On the bed. In everyday life. You were warned. Now, act accordingly." Astoria imparts some timeless wisdom.
1. Pride

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Slytherin boys have more pride than a herd of hippogriffs. _Act accordingly_.

There was nothing she could do if one considered the circumstances. It was simply too unbelievable, too…hilarious. She had never been one for public laughter, preferring to keep a completely unemotional mask in place most of the time. In that situation, the idea was impossible to execute.

Without an inch of remorse, she cackled loudly, covering her mouth with her thin fingers. Eyes flew to her from all corners of the common room. Her laugh echoed off the dark stone walls.

"Will you desist?" He hissed, scowling. "You're embarrassing."

"Me? Embarrassing? What kind of bloody move was _that_, Malfoy?" She motioned toward the coffee table between the two couches with another round of laughter. "You must be joking."

He didn't respond, shaking his head.

"She's got you, Draco, just admit defeat and be done with it." A baritone said from his right. Blaise smirked as he leaned back into the cushions. He made a flippant gesture toward the game of Wizard's Chess. "Are you going to say it, Astoria?"

Grinning, Astoria leaned forward just a bit. "I'm ruddy enjoying this, I am. Three years and not once have I been able to beat him. You're off your game tonight, Malfoy, truly." Waving her hand, she made the final call. "Knight to E-Three." Watching with a certain amount of earned arrogance, Astoria made note of the irritation that was welling up in Malfoy's eyes. As soon as the King was destroyed, the Malfoy heir stood, throwing the board into the air with his rage. He was breathing quickly through his nose, like a raging bull.

"Wound your pride, mate? Which hurts more: losing to ickle Greengrass or to a Third Year?" Zabini offered, sounding vaguely amused.

Astoria knew that this time she had severely damaged his conceit and ego. It was a beautiful prize for practicing Wizard Chess as much as she had over the winter holidays. It gave her an enormous amount of satisfaction to see a little humiliation in Draco Malfoy. "Oh, Malfoy, perhaps if you had taken me a bit more seriously, you would've won this match." Crossing her arms, she sat back, getting quite comfortable in front of the hearth. "Too bad, indeed, that you do not have the dignity to admit defeat gracefully."

"I will never admit defeat to you, Greengrass. It was luck and cheating."

"Cheating, was it?" She wondered, raising a brow as he fumed. "Cheating is part of Slytherin Wizard's Chess, if I remember correctly, or am I off my rocker, Zabini?"

"A little of both, I think."

"It doesn't matter. I'll never accept you won that match." He sounded almost petulant, like a child. Men truly were such babies when their self-importance was shattered. "You're nothing but a _little girl_!"

"And you're nothing but the _little boy _who lost to this _little girl._ Good luck fixing you're broken heart, you ickle poof." Smirking at her snide remark, Astoria Greengrass placed her impassive mask back upon her face and stood. Malfoy was slack-jawed and silent, shocked into a stupor. Sensing an opening, she went in for the kill. "Let's play again, sometime, Malfoy. I could always use the practice, yeah? Maybe I can teach you a thing or two."

Side note: When I mention 'act accordingly,' I mean doing whatever you can to shatter that pride. After all, they can't choke to death by swallowing it, right?

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**A/N:** It just hit me and I had to start this series. I know that a few out there might've been waiting for some more Astoria/Draco stuff. Well, jump on board and here we go. This is Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys. Trust me, she has a lifetime of knowledge to impart on all the silly little bints out there that think they know how to wrangle in a snake. Leave me some feedback. Until next time!


	2. Uncomfortable

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

When presented with a situation they are uncomfortable with, Slytherin males will do one of two things: ignore the problem or overreact.

She had been sitting there for hours simply watching the entire scene unfold. It began as two, grew to four and eventually multiplied to eight. As amusing as it was, it was also depressing. Depressing in the sense that the men just couldn't seem to figure the problem out. She, of course, had worked out the issue quite a while ago. She wasn't the fourth smartest witch in her year for nothing, after all. It was her guess, just as well, that the Slyterhin boys were just thick.

"It's obviously some ridiculous practical joke."

Nott always had a penchant for stating the obvious.

"Gryffindors?"

Goyle always had a knack for stupidity.

"No, you git! There's no way the _bloody Gryffindors _could get in our dorm! Whoever did this is in Slytherin and when I find them, I'll kill them and feed their arses to the giant squid."

Malfoy always had a certain skill for overacting.

Nott shrugged, turning away from the stuck door. He saw her watching and approached, slipping onto the couch opposite. "Just wait until Adrian gets here to fix it, chaps." Nonchalant, he pulled a book from her stack and began to read. "Astoria." It was merely an acknowledgement of her presence and nothing more.

"Hey, Greengrass! Did you see you did this?" Malfoy gestured toward the door with one hand. Fury was evident in the way his jaw was clenched and his eyes were narrowed.

Plastering on the most innocent expression she could muster, Astoria replied. "I've been so 'stuffed up in my books' Malfoy, that I have no idea what happened to your door. Bloody shame, that is."

Nott eyed her before shaking his head and allowing a small smile. He knew. She knew he knew He just didn't care.

"Don't be a bint, Greengrass! You've been out here all bloody evening and you don't know who sealed our door shut?"

"No." She replied, lifting up her textbook on Ancient Runes. "I have more important things to do than guard your dormitory entryway, Malfoy."

"Like read your silly books?"

"Like kick you're sorry arse in wizard's chess." Nott smirked from where he sat. "What, you think we didn't hear about your stunning defeat last semester?" Astoria snorted into her book, watching as Malfoy's face went from pale white to bright red.

"Nott, I don't want to hear your bloody mouth! And you!" It was easy to ignore him. His rants were commonplace- Potter this, my Father that. "You did this!" The innocent expression on Astoria Greengrass's face made every single person in the room question her involvement. If there was one thing they knew, Astoria Greengrass _never _looked completely innocent. "SEE? YOU BLOODY DID IT! FIX IT, YOU HARPY!"

Her eyes rolled before she closed the book, stacking it atop the others. "He's louder than normal." It was directed toward the only man in the room that seemed not to care either way.

Nott shrugged and glanced toward Malfoy. "Adrian will be here soon to fix the problem."

"Don't you dare ignore me, Greengrass!"

"Got locked out of your dorm, mates?" Adrian Pucey's voice cut in. The younger students eyes fell on their Prefect. No one paid attention to the fact that Astoria was pulling her books into her arms before starting toward the girl's dormitories. The entertainment was coming to a close. "It's just a tricky sticking charm. Bloody hell, you lot couldn't figure this one out? I think I can get it loosened." With a confident wave of his wand, a thick liquid began to seep from the door, the deepest shade of emerald.

Heads snapped around toward where the youngest Greengrass had been sitting.

"BLOODY BRAT!" Malfoy's voice rang throughout the whole of the Slytherin House. Nott watch with vague interest, smirking slightly at his friend's reaction. Astoria was due some retribution soon.

In the girl's dormitories, Astoria settled her books on her bed and grinned. They were so predictable. Now, she would have to watch her back, but the entertainment was well worth it. The payback she was awaiting wasn't from Malfoy at all. He was all bark. It was Nott that had her nervous.

Side note: When dealing with similar situations, always pay attention to the one that remains calm. They are always the biggest threat. _Always._

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A/N: THANK YOU ALL for the reviews! This was just a whim, but I've decided to go through with it. Please leave me some feedback on this one too! Slipped in my favorite character: NOTT. Until next time!

Disclaimer: All characters belond to JKR!


	3. Brooding

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Brooding. They all do it. Most think it makes them look appealing. Some have nothing better to do. Few have a real reason. Regardless, it will always be annoying.

There was always something about Valentine's Day in the Slytherin House. It seemed that it was around that point in the year that males of the snake variety were in particularly forlorn moods. They stared off into the middle distance, eyes unfocused. They sat in silence, as if contemplating some mysterious unknown. They, for lack of a better term, brooded in the dark shadows of any place they could claim.

Being a Fourth Year, Astoria had her theories. It was simply a matter of testing them.

Her eyes searched the common room before resting upon one, Blaise Zabini, who had taken up residence at the end of a long table. His endless legs stretched the distance to the top of the table, propping his expensive Italian leather shoes for all to see.

Dark brown eyes stared at the floor as if he were thinking on something deeply personal.

This was something that Blaise Zabini simply did not do.

She approached slowly, before knocking his feet from the table. This shocked him out of his reverie.

His expression remained schooled, but Astoria wasn't fooled one tiny bit. "Yes, Astoria, tesorina?"

She smartly ignored the endearment. "Why are you over here?"

"I'm thinking."

"You don't think, Blaise."

"I'll excuse that, cara." He replied, dryly, casting a withering glance. She raised her eyebrows and stared for just a moment. That was all it took. "Fine. Tracey is attracted to Cailean, right? Right. Well, all he does is sit and stare like this. She thinks it makes him look attractive." Astoria stared in wonder. This was unbelievable, ruddy unbelievable. "I thought perhaps—"

"She would find _you_ attractive if you were to do the same thing?" He snorted and leaned back again, placing his feet atop the table once more. "Blimey, you really _are_ a git! All this time I thought it was just a summer thing."

"Bite me."

"She doesn't like you because you insult her every blamed second you see each other." Astoria said, turning away. "If you could just cut that out. Calling her the 'half-blooded harpy' doesn't help your case."

Hours later, she was observing quite another candidate, one she didn't give much thought. The fact was, one could rarely tell if Theodore Nott was brooding or contemplating some creative, yet dirty, scheme. He always kept to the opposite couch, reading various books and taking rigorous notes. The one time that she did read some of his scribbling, she found spells that had not even been created yet. Nott had nothing better to do, it seemed. Politics, drama and games didn't amuse him so he was left with deep thought to pass the time. That could be either a blessing or a curse. That depended on what side you were on.

The last candidate was the most confusing.

Truth was: he had been different all year. Her Third Year, he would pick on her as her sister would. Nothing too terrible, just comments and jokes here and there and he had sought revenge for her practical joke. It was simply unbelievable how quickly Draco Malfoy had changed.

His eyes were sunken, set deep into his skull. He looked sickly, thinning out about the face and body. Once somewhat the wit of the Slytherin common room, he was holed up in the corner study carol, staring directly at the wall for who knows how long each night. Valentine's evening was no different.

Astoria sat and watched too, from her usual seat on the couch before the fire. Even the flames there were beginning to dwindle when she finally made the decision to approach. The common room was deserted save for Theodore Nott and Cailean Cross sitting on the opposite wall, playing a quiet game of wizard's chess. Quite the match that would be. The first and second smartest wizards in Slytherin dueling on the checkered marble. That Valentine's Day, those two were the only ones that _didn't_ seem strange.

Astoria leant against the wall beside the carol, her left hand on her hip. "That's a total of five hours staring at the same spot."

He didn't respond.

"Even Blaise gave up." She continued.

"I don't give a damn what Blaise did."

"Neither did Tracey Davis." She responded in kind, shaking her head. "The droopy thing just doesn't win women."

Finally, his head turned. It shocked her just how unfeeling his eyes were. Before, they always sparkled with a sort of mischievous wit or anger, depending on the day. They were now drained of all emotion. It made her reel back a bit. She had known Draco Malfoy since she was a little girl. Never once did he look like that.

The question was at the tip of her tongue. 'Are you okay?' she meant to say, but before she could, he stood. The scrape of the wood echoed through the entire chasm, making the only other occupants turn to watch.

"I have nothing to say to a brat like you. You have no bloody idea." It was a hiss, filled with hate and loathing. Before she could even move away, she found herself shoved against the wall. Her eyes shut automatically when her head snapped against the stone. "Stay away from me." He strode away like a spectre, there one moment, gone the next.

"Greengrass—" came Nott's concerned voice.

She waved him off. "No-No... harm done."

Standing, she moved toward the girl's dorms. This called for a quick-heal draught and a good night of sleep. Perhaps the potion could heal the concussion before class in the morning. Otherwise, Draco Malfoy would have one more thing to ponder: how to escape her wrath.

Side note: Approach with caution.

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A/N: That was such a fun chapter to write. I can't thank everyone enough for all of the reviews. They truly make me smile. It's good to see some return reviewers, trust me, I've got more coming! Lots more. So please leave me some feedback. All the best. Until next time!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR.


	4. Handsome

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Handsomeness is a common trait shared by many Slytherin men. That being said, when one is ugly, he is a small step from a night troll. Be warned.

Astoria could be objective. It was a positive, of course, when looking at males. Any house. Gryffindor held some trump cards—Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Michael Powell, Richard Starkweather. Beautiful specimens, each. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well kept some prized males in their stocks.

Slytherin, no doubt through good breeding, held a wide variety of visually appealing men. Blaise took the cake, perhaps even the tea and biscuits too. What was worse: he knew it.

Theodore Nott was quietly handsome, in a mysterious and rather condescending way. Those two traits, for whatever reason, made the women (regardless of house) drool. Sharp features and a defined chin were distinct among the Nott clan.

Draco Malfoy? Well, he was attractive. Less so in the past year, since he was losing weight rapidly and his looks had disintegrated. Still, there was something about him that had women falling over themselves in hallways and fawning at Honeydukes.

Astoria sighed, listening to a group of her contemporaries speak of who was the handsomest of all. 'It was ever so hard to decide.'

Huffing, she tightened her scarf and moved outside. The snow was so unspeakably heavy that she darted with her head down for the Three Broomsticks.

Arriving at her usual seat at the back of the small pub, she stripped off her plush winter coat and gloves. She was meeting no one. Her friends were busy at some dress store down the street. They had been at it for hours. A quiet butterbeer was all she needed to ease away the loathing for all objects formal.

"Hello Little Greengrass."

She knew that voice.

Lifting her head, she witnessed the reversal of fortune in the Slytherin gene pool.

Vincent Crabbe was large, flat nosed and with a neck like a tree. It was disgusting, the look he hand on his face. A sort of mix between glee and pleasure. Astoria leaned away. Crabbe was so far removed from beauty that he doesn't bear description.

"All by yerself then?"

"No. Waiting for the girls."

"Yer lying. I can tell. You always smirk when you lie."

"Fine. Would you rather me say that I have no desire to see you? Leave me alone."

"Ouch, Greengrass. Not friendly."

"Of course not, Crabbe. Now, leave me be, eh?" She lifted her book once more before a fat hand grasped it from the top and pulled it away.

"Advanced Transfiguration? Why read that, Greengrass? Think you're smarter than regular, stupid transfiguration?" He asked, closing the book and tossing it to the floor. "Some bloody genius you are. Your sister's the smart one." Now there was a new one, one that Astoria had never heard before. Daphne could be accused of many things—intelligence was not one of them. "Maybe you'll show some proper respect now, eh, Greengrass?"

Astoria snorted, "Respect? You? No, I don't believe so. If you'll excuse me, Crabbe, I have something to attend to." She slid out of the seat and leaned down to grasp her book, attempting to conceal her wand. Crabbe had always been very straight-forward in his advances. It was best to be prepared.

She saw him fumble for his wand, but before it could be drawn, or she could draw hers, another came into her line of vision, pointing at Crabbe's large neck. Allowing her gaze to trail up the arm, she arrived at the conclusion that she had inexplicably consumed too much butterbeer.

"Crabbe, you're a git. Get on." Astoria watched as he pushed his wand into Crabbe's cheek. "Go." It was hissed. Crabbe gave a quick, contemptuous glance toward his 'leader' and turned back to Astoria.

"One day, Greengrass…" He bared his teeth, one that he appeared to have fashioned after Draco Malfoy.

Astoria sneered, a dare. He could try any time. She would outwit him every time.

"Leave, Crabbe. I don't have time for this." Malfoy hissed through clenched teeth. Crabbe growled in response and moved away.

Astoria straightened with her book in her arm, wand hand falling to her side. Malfoy stood very still for a long moment before glancing toward the front of the Three Broomsticks. She sensed something was off, something about the way he was carrying himself.

"I don't have time for this rubbish!" He turned on his heel and continued past the stairs toward the door, stopping only briefly to look at the Thickheaded Trio from Gryffindor, before leaving.

It was the realization that hit Astoria as she exited a few moments later that had her completely shocked. Even if Malfoy was growing thinner by the day and his eyes were dull and lifeless, even if he seemed completely different, even if he seemed…to have a darkness she couldn't describe, she still thought him the most striking in the House. Bloody hell. It was best to accept that fact and carry on.

Later that evening, she heard of what had happened to Katie Bell on the way back from the Three Broomsticks and she knew.

She suspected that Nott knew as well. He kept glancing surreptitiously at Malfoy from the couch across from her before catching Astoria's gaze in his. 'Malfoy did it,' his green eyes said. 'Malfoy cursed that girl.'

Astoria's eyes spoke volumes. 'And I'm going to find out why.'

Side note: Denial of said handsomeness will not get you far, nor prove useful in the long run.

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A/N: I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter. It is more or less and transitional bit. I also apologize for the short length. Regardless, I can't thank everyone enough for the reviews, favorites, and alerts. I never expect this much feedback! This was a whim writing. So, THANK YOU ALL! It makes my day brighter with every review I recieve! Anyway, please leave me some feedback here as well. Trust me, there is so much more coming. Until next time!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.


	5. Nott

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

When dealing with a man of the Nott lineage, note that most books they deign to read involve outlawed information. Do not approach. If they want to talk, a Nott will come to you.

Astoria folded her arms and leaned over the thick History of Magical Jewelry, eyes scanning the page for the information she needed. There was the simple fact that the necklace in question was absolutely dreadful to seek. It was a phantom necklace and thus trying to find evidence of it was like trying to grasp smoke. She was proficient at finding information, at finding the hidden truth in the scales of lies. In short, Astoria Greengrass was a nosy parker and she knew it.

"Ring of Anmeris…"

Her eyes lifted from the text with a sigh, glancing toward the chair that was filled only two seats down from her.

Theodore Nott was focused completely on the volume in front of him, not sparing the moment to even breath it seemed. Absolutely amazing what that man could do when he was determined.

Astoria shook her head and shut her eyes. It was late, far too late to be meddling in the affairs of another, especially Draco Malfoy. After what did it benefit her to find dirt on Malfoy. Even so, she couldn't help her curiosity. It was a morbid curiosity, one that she had possessed since birth. She liked to meddle. It gave some form of entertainment in a world of drab nonsense.

Her eyes opened and immediately slipped over toward where Nott was sitting, gaze still glued to the parchment. She knew better than to interrupt him. The one time she had overlooked a book of his, her eyes were scarred for life. The descriptions and depictions of tortures man should never know. It made her see young Theodore Nott in a new, more frightening light. He was a quiet executioner. Her father had coined the phrase in the first war or so he had said. An assassin that no one suspects, a person with no feeling or emotions.

"You know, you won't find it in that book." She jumped. Her head snapped around once more.

Nott brought the book he had been reading before onto her section of the table and pointed at the illustration. "The Opalescence. It killed nineteen muggle owners. It was originally owned by Fitzwilliam Lucas, a vastly powerful Dark wizard. History of Magical Jewelry often forgets about the numerous Dark objects in the world."

She nodded, the intensity of her shaking growing exponentially. "The necklace was meant to kill."

"Yes, of course it was." Nott said with some irritation. "The only question is: Who is Draco Malfoy trying to kill? And why?"

"I doubt very much that he has it out for Katie Bell. The woman is terrible on the pitch." Astoria wasn't trying to crack a joke, but Nott chuckled a quiet laugh anyway, his hand going over his mouth.

"Yes, I rather doubt that Malfoy would attempt to assassinate Katie Bell regardless of her quidditch skill." Astoria leaned back, watching as Nott took the seat beside her. "Why do you care, Greengrass?"

"Simple curiosity." She quirked an eyebrow up. "And you, Nott?"

"Just attempting to…" his face was caught in shadow, cast from the lamp at the end of the shelf, making his features seem even sharper. There was a sinister air to Nott at that moment. The strange bit was that Astoria was not uncomfortable in the least. She had been raised around such Darkness, her father was a lifelong Death Eater after all. "…help a friend."

"With what?"

"Oh, he thinks I don't know. He vastly underestimates me. Everyone does."

Astoria didn't. There were things of nightmares that Nott was capable of.

"Astoria," she jerked at the use of her first name, "who is the one person in this castle that the Dark Lord would want dead?"

Harry Potter.

No, the Dark Lord would do that himself.

"Dumbledore."

Nott smirked. "Oh, you _are_ smart."

"How are you going to help him?"

"The question is: how are _we _going to help him?"

Astoria reeled back. "I'm not helping that git. I wanted to know what was going on, not get involved in it."

"You will." Nott responded, allowing a small smirk on his face. It was a twisted sort of grin. Astoria felt her pulse quicken a bit as he reached for his sleeve. Slowly, he drew the fabric up. Her breathing caught in her throat. "You'll do what you have to," his voice dropped low as she stared at that mark upon his arm, the Dark Mark. "To survive."

Seeing the veiled threat, she nodded. "Whatever…I have to do…to survive."

Side Note: Sometimes it's best to disassociate yourself from the Nott clan. They often bring more trouble than they are worth.

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A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews! I seriously cannot show my gratitude enough. Yes, this was darker, but trust me...Things will be getting very interesting. Please leave me some feedback. Until next time.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.


	6. Stairs

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Slytherin men will find a way to sneak into the girls dorms in all generations. It's been done for nearly five hundred years. No reason that it should stop in the future.

"Oh, just leave her alone, Madeline. Astoria doesn't care about all that. Just look, she isn't even listening to you anyway. Let's grab some supper while we still can. She isn't going to leave this room tonight." Oh, not all Slytherin girls were stupid. It is just easier to catch people unawares if you place on a ignorant façade.

Astoria had spent the last two weeks working diligently on an idea that she had discovered after corresponding with her Father.

Poison.

He had attempted it once on the previous Minister of Magic. Being proficient in potions, particularly those that were...of questionable legality, she knew that she could make a poison the likes of which had never been seen. It would be neigh untraceable to the naked eye and only obvious to the trained nose. The perfect killer.

Slipping her fake work out of the way, she reached for the box tucked under her bed. It was easy to slip such items into the Slytherin dorms. Powerful venoms and toxins were mere tools of the trade. Prefects never took notice and Professor Snape didn't care.

She had realized quite quickly what Theodore Nott had meant by helping. With the stress in Malfoy's eyes, he was becoming more and more desperate. Desperation would lead to mistakes. Nott had slowly worked his way into Malfoy's circle of trust, an object she assumed to be Nott's mission: to make sure that Malfoy completed his own. In short, Theodore Nott was a fallback, a snitch in a position of great power, if he only knew what strings to pull. And Nott? He was the perfect puppet master.

"Is it done?"

The vial slipped out of Astoria's hand and landed on the stone floor, bursting into tiny black flames before evaporating. She spun while jumping to her feet. "How the _bloody hell _did you get in here?"

"Confundus Charm on the stairs along with some decent skill on a broom packed along with a work of the Weasley's creation." Astoria's nose wrinkled at that idea. "Those twins are ruddy brilliant, regardless of their pedigree." That was a bit strange for a Nott to say… "Is it done?"

"Well, yes. We only have one vial now, but it should be more than enough. Two vials would've been instantaneous with the tongue even contacting, but one will kill just as well…perhaps a bit more suffering…" The fact that she said these words without feeling or care didn't bother the Slytherin witch. She took the final glass bottle and held it out toward Nott. "If you have the bottle…"

"It is luck that the house elf at Nott Manor is loyal to me. This is my father's finest mead."

"I trust Draco is still unaware?"

"Too concerned for himself to realize what is going on otherwise." Nott said, settling the bottle onto her desk. Waving his wand, the done up wrappings fell away, leaving the top open for attack.

"Careful not to touch either liquid: it can contaminate." Nott leveled a bored look at her. "Right, you know that."

"Of course, Draco was bragging at the beginning of the year. He sure isn't bragging now." Nott slipped onto the empty chair, pouring the contents in, watching the mead turn blood red before returning to a dull brown. "Ruddy git didn't realize what he was getting into."

"Did _you_?" There was no malice. How could there be? Nott was a cold bastard, yes, but she could see it in his eyes too: the fear.

His eyebrows rose as he waved his wand to repair the wrappings. "I knew. I didn't have a choice, but I knew. If Draco fails, I fail. If I fail, well, that's just not an option." Rubbing his hands over his legs, he moved to stand, grabbing the bottle from the table. "Astoria, keep out of it from now onward. Don't meddle. Don't ask questions. Don't attempt to aid me or Malfoy. Just leave Malfoy to me. If the Dark Lord learns of your role in this…"

"My family is already as good as dead. I accepted that fact the moment I learned the Dark Lord had returned." She replied dismissively. "My Mum's in Russia. My Da's in Italy. Daphne doesn't know up from down and will most likely be spared since she is…her. Even the Dark Lord will see how utterly witless she is." Fingering her wand, she continued to explain. "The Dark Lord will never know that I attempted to aid you or Malfoy."

"The Dark Lord will know." Nott responded. "He has ways of knowing."

Astoria smiled slightly, readying her wand behind her back. "How would he know what you cannot know yourself?" Nott's eyes widened and the wand came from behind her back faster than he could even react. "_Oblivate!_" A blank expression came to Theodore Nott's face. "Why risk _my_ hide for you or Malfoy, eh, Nott? Best you just forget."

"Greengrass…" was the dull reply she received. For the first time in a while she saw utter confusion on Nott's thin features. "What—"

"I told you. I don't know where Malfoy is! There's no reason to follow me up here. How the hell did you do that anyway?"

"Malfoy…"

"Try the bloody Astronomy Tower, he's up there all the time! Just get out, Nott! I have work to do!"

"Work…"

"Yes, you're the smartest wizard in your year and yet you don't know what work is?" Had she taken away too many memories? It was her first attempt at a memory charm anyway. "You came up here asking where Malfoy was, said it was urgent." His expression changed, lighting up as if he remembered. Good, her fake memory had worked perfectly. A schooled look came upon his face. "You're excused, Nott."

Without saying another word, Nott slipped from the room off to give Malfoy that poisoned mead. Of course, Nott would believe he had done it himself. He was a genius at potions. He was a genius in all respects, after all.

Astoria knew that it was luck that made her memory charm work. With no memories of her aid, she could go on as she had before. Knowing that her neck was still under the blade, but perhaps, that blade had been dulled for a time. If only for a little bit.

Side note: Follow the age-old adage, 'it's always best to be safe rather than sorry.'

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A/N: Here's the next chapter! I was so excited to put this up! I hope that everyone enjoyed the chapter. I can't thank everyone enough for the awesome reviews, favorites and alerts! They are always such a blessing to read. There's lots more to come so keep an eye out! Until next time!

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter.


	7. Any Means

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

"Any means achieve the ends" is what the mudbloods would call a 'get out of jail free card'. When used by the Slytherin male, he has done something terrible (even by our standards) and uses the phrase to explain his actions without consequence.

Astoria was forced to admit something from the bottom of her heart. It was truly the deepest emotion she felt at that moment in time. Every single particle of the world had stopped moving in that one, still moment. It was really quite amazing, that silence that reigned over that small section of the Slytherin table. Her fork was placed with a clank that seemed to echo.

She...was shocked.

Blaise grinned like a wolf, teeth bared and contasting starkly with his dark skin. It was also in great disparity to his usual arrogant, sometimes bitter self that he had recently acquired. "Have something to say, Greengrass?"

"You just said my sister was a good lay, Zabini. What do you want me to say to that?"

There were a few chuckles from the housemates that sat around. Pansy Parkinson was practically cackling into her plum pudding. Astoria rolled her eyes. He was doing this to bait her. It would be a cold day in hell when she reacted accordingly.

"Care to rival her?" He responded in kind, taking a reserved bite of pie. "Sisters would be a first for me."

"Pleasing a woman would be a first for you, too." Astoria responded, rolling her eyes.

"What was that?"

Sighing, she reached for her books. This was why she ate late in the lunch period. No one ate at that time, save for people that didn't talk to each other (i.e. Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy and Cailean Cross). Trying to pick up her supplies, she found they were stuck. "Honestly…Zabini you don't want me saying my peace. Just leave it be."

"Easy, Greengrass." Blaise's eyes narrowed. She wondered just what had happened to cause him to become so angry.

"That sounded closer to a warning, Zabini." A voice said from behind her, making Astoria spin on her heel. Nott crossed his arms with a small smirk playing on his face. It had been four weeks since Nott had even glanced her way, possibly due to the memory charm. Now, he was stepping in where he wasn't needed.

"As if Astoria Greengrass is threatening! Look at her!" Zabini gestured toward her with a disapproving expression. "She looks like a mouse."

"Mice bite sometimes, Zabini. You'd do well to remember that." Nott replied before Astoria could. She gave him a rather searing glare before waving her wand over her supplies.

Zabini seemed unconvinced, shaking his head. "She has no breasts, no curves, not even any defining features. Astoria, you are, indeed, plain." What was he expecting exactly? Retaliation? He was barking up the wrong tree. "It's too bad though, Astoria, that you grew up so. I had money on it that you would marry higher than your sister."

Astoria went to pick up her things. Escaping would be the best course of action. She could worry about her feelings on the matter later. A true Slytherin's instincts were to run first, think later. Her mind registered that eyes were watching from quite a few directions. She noticed that a few from the Gryffindor table were standing, speaking to the newly arrived (and healed) Katie Bell.

"When you were younger, you were prettier." Zabini continued pompously. "Such a shame to the Greengrass family. Daphne missed out on the intelligence, but it's easier to marry a pretty face." It was mostly the fact that Blaise Zabini had never spoken to her in such a manner that had her rattled. He had always been friendly enough, a gentleman. Now…

"If you'll excuse me…" Astoria turned to walk away, her shoulder colliding with Nott, who stood just inches from her. She clutched her things tighter, raising her chin defiantly. She would not lower her eyes. Never would she lower her eyes. Something in her mind snapped. Spinning on her heel, she leveled a smart glare at the abhorrent Slytherin. "You have such high standards, Blaise Zabini. It would be a great shock for your lady friends to hear of your…lusting for Tracey Davis. Look at that, will you? _Half-blood _and comparatively plain. Imagine that, _Blaise, _what _low standards _you have!" With a sneer, she moved for the door.

There was no way to hold it in for long. Her self control was unparalleled, but even she had to crack sometimes. She ran to the only place of relative solitude she knew.

It was not solitude she found, but a sight that made her heart stop. Professor Snape was walking down the corridor, Draco Malfoy draped over one of his shoulders. It was a terrible nightmare. That was what she had thought at first. Malfoy was weak, relying on the professor's strength to be held up. His hair was in disarray. There were blood stains all over his white shirt. His half-closed eyes didn't leave the ground.

What had happened?

Professor Snape lifted his gaze, his mouth moving quickly, most likely in a whisper. It was no secret that Professor Snape was a Death Eater. He was most likely relaying some sort of information. "Greengrass."

Astoria stopped dead, hoping that he wouldn't call on her to help. She didn't need to handle Malfoy. She didn't want to help him—

"Get over here." It was a command. "Take Mr. Malfoy to the medical wing. I have to take care of Potter." His voice rumbled with anger as he practically handed Malfoy off to her unprepared shoulder. "Get a move on, Greengrass. This _is_ urgent, if you cannot tell."

Astoria's body moved automatically, turning slightly to lead the elder boy along. He didn't react at all: not one witty remark, not one sneer, nothing. It was as if Malfoy was a blank slate. His eyes stared straight ahead with no focus.

Malfoy was pathetic. It was something she had decided in that moment. He was simply not made for this kind of…work. Draco Malfoy was not a killer, in fact, his mission to kill was killing him. Both attempts had failed and there was no telling how many other tries he had made.

She made no attempt to speak to him, to know what had happened. Potter had most likely attacked Malfoy or vice versa. One would think Malfoy would know to keep a low profile. Then again...

Madam Pompfrey had asked questions. She had no answers. Malfoy did not speak. He didn't acknowledge the medical treatment. Even so, Astoria remained, watching the sun outside the hospital wing windows. It seemed that star didn't fit. It should have been raining for the mood she was in. She couldn't say why she was concerned with the likes of Draco Malfoy. She couldn't say why she was upset at Zabini for his cruel remarks. She couldn't say why, at that moment, she truly did hate her sister. Astoria didn't know why she had trusted Theodore Nott. Why, why. why. Tiresome.

"Miss Greengrass…"

It was best to remain alone, to keep a mask of indifference. That way, you can hurt others but you can't be hurt yourself. She had learned, far before making friends in her House, that others will always choose themselves over you. That infamous Slytherin self-preservation trait.

"Miss Greengrass," Madam Pompfrey's willowy voice interrupted her thoughts. "Mr. Malfoy left ten minutes ago. Was there something else you needed?"

Sighing, Astoria shook her head. "No, I don't need anything."

She took refuge in the library for the remainder of the day, skipping out on History of Magic and Ancient Runes. The professors could bloody well get over it as far as she was concerned. It wasn't until after nightfall that she returned to the Slytherin dormitories.

She eased open the portrait hole and slid inside, like a snake slithering back into its hole.

At the sound of voices, she froze. If she was caught, it would be points and detention for a disobeying curfew.

"You did a number on her, Blaise. Was it completely necessary to go that far?"

There was a snort. "She's so stubborn. If I didn't, she would get further involved."

"You hurt her. Bad. I think she trusted you a bit."

"Greengrass makes it too easy. She's more vulnerable than she lets on. She forgets she's only fourteen."

"And yet she's smarter than you."

"Exactly why we can't let her get any more involved than she already is. If she knew that I have the Mark as well, what do you think will happen? The fact that she knows both your mission and Malfoy's does not win any favors."

"She believes that I am obliviated. Quick thinking on her part, I'll commend, but I remembered nearly two weeks ago what had actually occurred. That was my fault." It was Nott. The other voice was Nott. Astoria plastered herself against the cool stones. "I shouldn't have involved her with my scheme to help Malfoy."

"Why help the bastard? He was so cocky at the beginning of the year. Let him wallow in it."

"If Malfoy fails and is, indeed, murdered, who do you think the Dark Lord will turn to next?" There was a heavy silence. "I prefer to keep my neck as far from the guillotine as possible. I reckon you are doing the same. Best to keep Malfoy as a buffer between us and the Dark Lord." Shameless use of another person, truly, a Slytherin concept.

"Recruitment is an easy task. Everyone listens to me anyway. He chose me for my charisma."

There was a sigh before the voices grew distant, toward the boy's dormitories. "He could have chosen you for your ruthlessness. I don't know that Astoria will ever forget that. It was too similar to when we were children, Blaise. You did it on purpose."

"Of course I did. You think I don't remember what that prick did?" Astoria cringed into the wall. "He doesn't even remember it, but if I can use what Malfoy did to help her now. Then let me be as ruthless, pitiless and hardhearted as I have to be."

The response from Nott was quiet and had a certain note of regret in it. "Any means achieve the ends, correct?"

Astoria waited in the stillness of the entryway. Just what were these Slytherin boys planning...what was going on? She heard Blaise's subdued reply: "Correct."

Side note: There are shades of gray between good and bad. One must use any means to achieve one's place in that grayscale of morality.

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A/N: I've been working hard on this story. I am just flabberghasted with the outpouring of support that I am recieving for it. I guess when you stop trying, it really does happen. I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter. All shall become known in due time. Please leave me feedback. Until next time!

Disclaimer: JKR owns it all.


	8. Never

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Slytherin males _never_ apologize.

Astoria didn't bother to acknowledge anyone over the course of the next week. She was, for lack of a better term, a bitch. She barely, bar the very annoying Hufflepuff that sat next to her in Potions and made every effort to engage conversation. She had been tempted to stuff his head in the cauldron, take the bloody detention and be done with it. Slughorn would be lenient. She was, after all, a Greengrass. She came mighty close to fulfilling that desire, but classes ended before she worked up the resolve.

She had friends. They were bubbly, good-for-nothings. She had more money than all of them put together. In layman's terms, they were useless to her. They had no pull, just pure blood and think minds. They giggled and bounced. She stared and slithered back to the solitude of her dorm.

There was once a time, when she was younger, that she would've remained out in the common room, reading her book or speaking on various issues, taking the mickey out of Malfoy and the others. Now?

Walking up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, she felt something shove into her, sending leaflets and quills clattering to the floor. "Watch it!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." A male voice said, hands reaching down to help gather the items. "I wasn't paying attention. The weather outside's so nice, I was watching the windows."

Her eyes lifted to the boy's face. He was smiling brightly, too brightly. Immediately, she tensed and started gathering her supplies faster than before.

"I recognize you. You're Astoria Greengrass."

She didn't respond.

"I'm Bran Wilson." His voice made it seem like she should've known that. "I sit next to you in Potions."

Oh, bloody hell. She quickly gathered the rest of her things and stood, angling toward moving away. She took a few steps up the stairwell, awkwardly trying to escape.

His smile continued to be bright. "I'm really sorry for knocking you down. I'll see you in Potions, yeah?"

It wasn't the thousand candle smile that had her confused, it was the profuse apologizing. She rarely interacted with anyone outside of Slytherin house. The idea of apologizing had been bred out of her. It had been bred out of all Slytherins.

Accepting this, she made it out onto the empty viewing space on the tower, settling the supplies on the small staircase at the other side before walking to the handrail. It was true that information was her strength, but it seemed that all sources were dry. There was no way to tell what Zabini and Nott were doing. Nott was observation and Zabini was recruitment, but what that meant was beyond her. Getting involved with either of them would have been disastrous. The Dark Lord didn't care for meddlesome people. It would earn her a flash of green and a shallow grave.

There was a hoot from her right and she turned to see a beautiful dark brown owl flying toward her. It landed on the rail, tossing a small package and letter at her sat on the stairs. Leaning forward, she grasped it, motioning for the owl to move closer. "Come here, Loki." With a nod, the owl batted its great wings two times before landing on the banister by her head. She immediately held up a treat. "What does father have to say?"

Astoria quickly undid the wrappings and unfolded the parchment.

"Astoria, they have found me. I will be leaving again. Do not send letters. They are tracing Loki. Your mother is alive, last I heard. I have sent, along with this last letter, something to defend yourself with. Dark times are coming, my daughter. When you leave school, I want you to take over the Greengrass name until I return. Do what you must to survive. After this war is won, I shall return."

She stared at that parchment for what felt like hours. A cool breeze began to wrap in and around the tower, until her arms and legs began to go numb. "Coward…" That was her father. Once a great Death Eater assassin, now running for his life for the information he sold to receive freedom.

She was now the Mistress of the Greengrass clan. Her sister would throw herself into the Black Lake. Of course, it had always been expected that Astoria would take over the business and family. She just didn't expect that time to come so quickly. "Bloody hell…"

The summer break was fast approaching. What would she do? Returning to Greengrass Hall was simply out of the question. As soon as she or her sister stepped foot inside, death would soon follow. The Greengrass family had been deemed 'deserters'. If there was one thing that the Dark Lord despised, it was disloyalty, her father had told her before he and her mother took off.

Her eyes slid to the packaging, working her thin fingers under the creases and seams. Finally, the brown paper ripped free to reveal a small black box, the Greengrass family crest on the top.

Inside, a single small, rounded creek stone. Its color was the darkest slate gray and atop the surface were two symbols: runes. She knew the characters immediately. "Pain. Gone." Her fingers ran over the carving before she pulled out the small note within. The parchment was weathered and faded, generations old.

"Wear only in times of great pain. This will numb thy pain away." Astoria stared in perplexed wonder. "Incantation: Morsus."

"We have to leave."

Astoria's head snapped up to see Blaise Zabini in the doorway, his wand out by his side. "Excuse me?"

"We have to leave. Now." There was ice in his tone and he stepped around to glare at her.

Stuffing the necklace and small box into her bag, she stood, allowing Loki onto her arm. "I believe I can determine for myself when I choose to leave. I certainly don't have to listen to y—"

He practically roared. "Unless you didn't hear: WE HAVE TO LEAVE!"

She jumped at his sudden shout, which seemed to shake the entire castle. No, that was the entire castle shaking violently. Her eyes went wide. Her arm lifted and sent Loki on his way. Zabini seemed to be growing desperate. "We have to get out of here. To the dungeons. Now."

She felt her head nodding and her legs moving. As she began to pass him, the entire tower shook. Her feet caught up beneath her and she began to stumble forward. Zabini caught her arm and started to dart down the spiral staircase. "Nott is waiting at the bottom. We don't have long. Why is it your always in the wrong _bloody_ place at the wrong _bloody_ time!"

It hit her then.

It was starting.

She bolted down the stairs and thought for a moment she saw spell flashes from the corridors she passed by, but she was quick as a wraith. She kept her eyes focused ahead. It was late now, in the evening. She could hear yells and incantations as she followed behind Zabini, whose long legs were carrying him at a much faster pace. They were still in the upper extremities of the castle, so far from their hole that the snakes began to feel nervous. At least, Astoria was nervous.

"What's happening?" She asked of Nott, who ran beside her. "What—"

"They're here. Keep your voice down."

A flash of green hit the wall just in front of Blaise as he skidded to a stop. Astoria felt her muscles lock up instantly. There were Death Eaters in the castle. Why in the world were Zabini and Nott running away from them?

"In, in! Get in!" Nott ordered, throwing his wand in a wide arch toward a closed wooden door. "We won't make it back in time. There's no time. Astoria, get inside."

She darted into the abandoned classroom, followed quickly by Zabini and Nott. "What the hell—"

"Zabini, close the door!" She saw almost raw panic in the brown eyes of Blaise as he threw himself toward the door. It was too late though, a purple spell ripped inside, hitting the young man square in the chest. He flew backward, slamming hard against the far wall, slumping to the floor in a heap. Astoria didn't move from where she stood among the desks, reaching for her wand in desperation.

A figure stepped inside then, tall and menacing. Brown hair matted against a large forehead with sweat. Astoria didn't notice the way Nott was angling in front of her, as if to hide her away.

"Ah, Nott. I see you've done your part."

Nott's chin angled up. "Of course, Gibbon. I was fully capable, though I do believe that striking Zabini was out of line."

"Out of line? He's lucky to have gotten a curse. I could always remedy that." The Death Eater hissed with a smirk. Dark eyes twitched toward the young woman hiding behind Nott. His smirk widened. "Having a bit of fun, were you? Two on one is unfair any—" His eyes widened as he got a better look. "Messing around with Greengrass ilk, Nott? I thought you of better taste."

Astoria saw Nott fiddling with his wand behind his back.

"She tastes fine." Nott responded. Astoria bristled.

With a wicked grin, Gibbon took a step forward. "Too bad I can't find out for myself, eh? Good job though Nott. Malfoy would've failed miserably had you not aided him."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't." Gibbon responded, with a wave of his wand, he placed his Death Eater mask back on. "Do not think us all so thick, Nott. It is quite easy to know where Malfoy's intelligence ends and yours begins." His head nodded toward Zabini. "That brat should work harder."

The castle shook violently and Gibbon grinned and disappeared into the corridor. Nott's wand immediately came out to close and lock the door.

"Damn it." Nott's fist punched the wall. "This is your fault, Greengrass. If you hadn't gone to the tower, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

"What—"

Nott's eyes darted this way and that, as if trying to work through his next course of action. Finally, he seemed to reach a conclusion, nodding his head resolutely. Without a word, he started toward the door. "Stay here. When Zabini wakes, take him directly to the dormitories. Pansy will know what to do."

"Where are you going?"

"To kill Gibbon. He knows too much." Without a backward glance, Nott entered the corridor.

Astoria pushed away her fear and nerves, kneeling beside the unconscious Zabini. Her wand ran over his head as she muttered healing spells under her breath. This was an utter disaster. After a few minutes, Blaise awoke, jerking up to grab her wrist in his surprise. "What the bloody—"

"Nott went to kill Gibbon. He said we should get to the common room."

Blaise nodded his head slowly, as if processing the information. "If those Order members find us, all hell will break loose." He pulled himself up and pressed his hand against his head. "You're an idiot."

"Excuse me?"

He leveled his dark eyes at her and sighed. "You overheard us speaking just last night. We said explicitly to stay near populated areas of the castle, didn't we?" Astoria jerked back. So they knew. They knew she had been eavesdropping on their conversations over the past week. How in the world could they have known? "We best get out of here. Now."

"What—"

"Astoria!" Blaise practically shouted, swinging to his knees. "Just shut up and let us get back to the common room. Maybe they're answers down there. Until then: not another word."

She ran after him. There were echoes of screams and cries, booms of likely destruction. Nothing, though, could deter her from following behind Zabini. Staying behind him meant survival. Of that fact, she was well aware. If she should stray from that path, slinking as quickly as possible in the shadows, death was waiting. Her feet moved quickly, but it was a flash of white had her skidding to a stop behind a suit of armor.

Malfoy.

That was Malfoy.

His face was frantic. It was just a second that she saw his expression, but it was enough to imprint in her mind forever. Gray eyes widened with utter fear.

What had happened to him? What—

A hand wrapped around her wrist, yanking her around the corner and down the stairs toward the dungeon. Within moments, she was being flung into the Slytherin common room. Her eyes immediately went to the two figures within.

Nott was leaning against the back of the black leather couch, his arm held out. Pansy Parkinson was tending to a deep gash along the forearm. "You made it."

"Gibbon?"

"Dead. Rowle took him out with his foolishness. Either way, Gibbon would've died tonight." was Nott's calm reaction. There was no expression on his face, but his eyes turned to Astoria. "Congratulations, you survived."

She didn't respond, edging further into the room.

They stood in silence. Words were not required among them. Zabini moved toward where Parkinson was standing, finishing her work on Nott's arm. The skin stitched itself together before the blood disappeared and the white fabric of his shirt coming together seamlessly. Parkinson's dark eyes danced toward where Greengrass stood, a certain nervous energy in their gaze.

"You should stay the hell away from us." She murmured, shaking her head.

"I think it's too late for that, Pans." Blaise responded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Greengrass is in for the long haul."

"It's too late now." Nott said in a straight, no-nonsense, emotionless tone. "I'm sorry." For getting her involved in something that she couldn't escape. For nearly getting her killed. For the way the world was. For everything. It took only hours to learn that the Headmaster had been murdered. The rumor was ciculated that Draco Malfoy had killed him on the Astronomy Tower, likely close to where Astoria had been just minutes before the old fool's return. Astoria knew. She knew that her world would never be the same. Whatever protection she had garnered from Dumbledore was gone. In the beginning, she had been willing to sacrifice that protection for friendship...Now that it was gone, she realized she should've never taken an interest. "I'm sorry, Astoria." Nott murmured from his place on the couch across from her as they sat in silence. "It's too late."

Side note: Never say 'never'.

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A/N: I love posting chapters for this story because I know so many people love it. It's like seeing someone smile at something you cook, something you put your efforts into. It makes me happy that this is enjoyed so much and by so many. Don't worry. Life goes in cycles of light and dark. There's a dark period for the story right now, but eventually, there will be some light. Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews and also for the favorites and alerts! Please leave me some feedback. All the best until next time!

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter.


	9. Reason

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Most females will never understand the reasoning of a man. This applies to all Houses.

There was no one to come. There was no one to pick her up. She had no choice but to remain behind, staying in the quiet, deserted dorms below. In summation, Astoria Greengrass was alone. Most Slytherin students had been withdrawn from the school. Even Nott and Zabini had left without a word. There one minute, gone the next. Not many wanted to stay for Dumbledore's funeral. The ones that did, didn't have anywhere else to go. Like her.

She pulled her knees up to her chest as her eyes skittered toward the window.

There were so many people below. They appeared as small ants walking about the shore beside the Black Lake. A white sarcophagus stood at the front of the arranged chairs. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear what sounded like crying. It made her cringe. Crying was for the weak.

Even so, it sounded like a decent idea at that point.

She wouldn't be caught dead down below. Attending the funeral of a man she aided in attempting to kill was, simply put, ridiculous. No. She would remain as far away as possible until the train ran to the station.

It gave her time to plan, at least.

Her sister…She had already left. The Parkinson's had taken her in immediately. With a bat of her eyelashes, she had Mister Parkinson falling all over himself. Pansy wasn't above using whatever means necessary to save whatever friends she could.

Daphne's absence made Astoria's ideas a bit easier to pull off.

There was always her Uncle Graves. He would be the most likely to take her in. Being the free spirit that he was, he would see her need. It was just a short jaunt on a muggle train from King's Cross to his flat.

Yes, that might work.

It might just work. She could play up his desire for family while having a place to live.

"Don't feel like being down there, eh?"

Astoria's head turned slowly. "What do you want?"

The boy just shrugged, moving to sit on another window ledge. "Nothing, nothing. I didn't expect you to still be here is all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She narrowed her eyes.

Bran Wilson shook his head. "You're Slytherin. Most of them left."

"I've noticed." She began to stand. There was no reason, nor time, to put up with someone like him.

He held out his hand as if to stop her or pause her ascent. "Your dress is nice, by the way."

It hit her then that there was something wrong. Not with him, but with her. Upon receiving a compliment such as that, a girl should blush and smile. Astoria's immediate, knee-jerk reaction was to curse him into oblivion for disturbing what little peace she had found in her solitude. She continued to stand, turning on her heel as she did so.

"It's okay to be scared." Bran said flatly.

That statement froze her feet to the stone floor. Still, somewhere in the distance, she heard that damn wailing sound again. It was almost like singing, like a sad, yet harmonious dirge.

"It's okay to be terrified."

Astoria pulled her wand from her dress robes so quickly that Wilson didn't have time to respond in kind. She approached him with an almost murderous glint in her eyes.

That little Hufflepuff boy didn't know what she was capable of! He didn't know what she had done! He didn't know to whom he was speaking. Her tone was low and threatening. "Me? Terrified? Perhaps it's _you _that should be terrified, you filthy mudblood!"

To her shock, he didn't respond. There was no sign of fear or surprise on his face. There was nothing, but the same slow smile as before. He stared up at her from his seat on the ledge with wide, hazel, unwavering eyes. "You can't do it. You can't kill me."

"Just how the bloody hell can you know that?" Astoria hissed through her sneer. "I could curse you right now. I could make you become one with the wall. I know a curse for that. You could see everyone but they would never see you. I could push you through the window. I could off you like that old coot outside. I know curses that are the stuff of your bloody nightmares! Don't tell me what I can and cannot do!"

"Second year." Bran responded with a very calm voice. "Second year, you stopped Heath Riggers from hurting a rabbit on the grounds. You jumped in front of the curse yourself. You said back then, when I took you to the hospital wing, that you didn't want the baby rabbit to get hurt because of someone's stupidity." He grinned slightly and shook his head. "Someone who cares so much for other beings…wouldn't kill me."

Astoria narrowed her eyes a little further. She remembered that. She, of course, had been half-unconscious on the way to the hospital wing. The next thing she remembered was waking up to Gail Harrison's nagging voice in her ear.

It was neither here nor there. "Wilson, there are two things that I would like to point out. I like rabbits. I don't like you." With a quick swish of her wand, Wilson was on the floor. "Don't let your mouth get away from you, mudblood. It could get you killed in the future." With another wave of her wand, Bran Wilson was frozen. Full-Body Bind.

Placing her wand away, she leaned over him and smirked. "Never assume that time does not change a person." She paused and thought for a moment. "I can kill and skin a rabbit if I need to eat it."

With nothing more to say, she started for the stairs.

The silence of the Slytherin dorms surrounded her. The few members of the House that had remained were at the reception upstairs. That was quite alright with her.

Her plan was simple and had been carefully thought out. She had sent an owl to her uncle in Stevenage. She knew he would accept. Once there, she could easily make her way to Gringotts to withdraw the family funds. There was an old, run-down family estate in Leeds. There, she could stay until summer break ended. It was a heavily fortified manor. Perfect for her.

_'It's okay to be scared.' _

Just what had that blamed Hufflepuff been thinking? What was his motivation to even approach her? She knew he must've been off his rocker. Although she didn't regret what she had done, leaving him to lay in that corridor, she found herself walking in that direction. She wouldn't be caught. All attention was on the funerary services. It was easy to sneak to that deserted hall.

When she snuck in the shadows, she noticed that he was gone. Someone had freed him. Astoria didn't acknowledge the relief in her chest. It didn't exist, of course, because for relief to exist there must have been regret. Slytherins do not regret their actions.

No, she didn't regret what she had done.

'_It's okay to be terrified.' _

Ignorant mudblood overstepping his bounds.

She wasn't afraid. She sure as hell wasn't bloody terrified.

She wasn't.

Side note: If a Slytherin woman does not understand the reasons of a man (regardless of House), it is always best to hex them and walk away with purpose. (Slytherin women don't run away.)

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A/N: Perhaps one of my favorite Astoria chapters so far. Perhaps the easiest to write too. I can't thank everyone enough for their fabulous reviews. I adore every single word you all have written to me. As for the story, I have quite a bit planned. I look forward to posting more. Please leave me some feedback. All the best until next time.

Disclaimer: JKR owns it all.


	10. Letters

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

The men of Slytherin do not write letters. In the rare instance that a letter is received from a Slytherin male, be sure to check for security curses. Injuries may occur.

"Tori," Astoria growled at the nickname and stuffed her pillow against her ear. "Tori, c'mon. You're the worst roommate in the world, I swear."

She released the pillow and lifted her head, thin brown hair frizzing in all directions. "This is the fifth night in a row, Uncle Merton! There are other times you can play that blasted cello!"

"It's the only time we have to practice. With the guys here too, we need to write what we can and get it on the air as soon as possible. Things are getting terrible out there, Tori. We have to do what we can. Songs can lift spirits." Merton Graves responded, shaking his head. He had the same thin, straggly hair as she. Obvious family relation. "My sister was an idiot getting involved."

"Mom wasn't involved. Dad was."

"An' he's where? Canada? Russia? Germany?"

Astoria shrugged. "I don't know."

"There it is then. That bloody 'couldn't give a hoot' attitude of yours." He drew the bow across the strings and a low moan followed from the cello. It echoed through the flat. Astoria rolled her eyes and clenched the pillow tighter. Thus the downsides of living with a musician. "The mates'll be here any minute. Are you going to listen to us write tonight or what?"

"Or what." She responded, shaking her head. "I'm going upstairs."

"Be that way." He responded in kind.

She had been at Merton Graves' flat for little over a month. Quickly, things were going downhill. It was becoming more and more dangerous to attempt any sort of travel. Since she was now only fifteen years old, her birthday being long forgotten by everyone but her, there was no way for Astoria to easily make her way to Gringotts and to the old family estate. Essentially, she was trapped in a flat with the Weird Sisters. To many in Wizarding World, at some point in the past, this arrangment might have been a blessing. To her? It was a bloody curse.

There were some things she couldn't stand. Incessant noise being one of them. Tuning screeches of muggle guitars and the beating of drums was hardly amusing at all hours of the night. Of course, they had placed a silencing charm on the walls of the flat so that the muggles weren't disturbed, but she thought that the muggles _deserved_ to be kept up at all hours of the bloody night as well. That would be a right form of punishment there. Worse than the Cruciatus Curse, that. If she was lacking in sleep, then the muggles should be too.

She forced herself into her makeshift room upstairs, slipping onto the couch. It had once been the band's lounge, but Uncle Merton had made it a bedroom with one sweep of his wand.

She could feel it coming in the air, the downfall, the time when everything went haywire. It was like a time before a broom crash. One can see it coming, but one doesn't think to stop it. Everyone could sense death in the way they drew breath, the way they hid in shadows. Shadows were the only safe place.

A quiet hooting sound met her ears and she lifted her head toward the window.

The owl was one that she did not recognize.

It had to be her father. He had somehow found a way to write her. Resourceful as he was, she didn't doubt it.

The owl hooted impatiently, shifting along the pane. "Alright, alright." Walking toward the window, she felt a pelt of cold air whip along her face before a wave of warm, humid air made it difficult to breath. A storm was coming. Her eyes slid over the trees in the distance and the park across the street. Slowly, she took the letter held in the owl's claw before it darted back into the night.

Immediately, she began to unfold the paper only to find that her hands were beginning to feel hot. In an instant, her hands released the parchment and it drifted to the floor, the red glow disappearing. She went to her knees to examine it. It was rigged, a curse placed upon it for secrecy. Her hands were burnt, reddening slightly into a pink color. They throbbed with pain. A security curse. Her hands felt as if she had grasped a fresh pot of tea by the bottom.

"Speak the password." She read along the edge. "Password? What bloody password?" What would her father use? There was only one word that kept returning to her mind. It was worth the shot. "Green."

Nothing. The parchment did not open. Perhaps..."Miriam." Her mother's name. "Emerald." Her favorite gemstone. "Aut vian inveniam aut faciam." The Greengrass motto.

Nothing once more.

"Oh, for the love of—" Her eyes narrowed. "I don't know. I don't have the bloody _means _to open this blasted thing!"

As if on cue, or the password had been spoken, it pulled open. The script scrawled in a hand she did not recognize. Her father wrote in large, wide letters. This was nothing close to her father's writing.

_'Escape to the old house. Go now. Danger coming. Do not wait.- T. N.' _

T. N.? Theodore Nott?

Astoria jumped to her feet, grabbing her wand from the table and the parchment from the floor. Her feet banged against the hardwood floors as she ran down the stairs. In the den area sat eight men picking at various instruments, laughing and cutting up at something or other. "Uncle Merton!"

He stood immediately, holding the neck of his cello as he did so. "Tori?"

"We have to leave. Immediately."

"Wait, what are you talking about, lassie?" Gideon Crumb asked, starting to remove his bagpipes. "You look a wee bit frantic."

Astoria felt her heart pound in her chest. Nott wouldn't risk warning her unless the threat was real. She had to escape. She had to get out of there. If she happened to save these fools in the process, then so be it. "I received a warning from a friend. We must leave now!"

"Tori…"

"Mertie…You're glass…" Kirley stated quietly, settling his guitar on the floor. All eyes turned to the foe-glass that sat in the corner, among various other magical items that her uncle had acquired in his travels and cross-country tours.

At the realization that the whites of a Death Eater mask were visible, all of the men sprang into action. Instruments were nearly thrown aside and they all stood in a circle, most with hands on their hips. They each looked toward her uncle for an answer.

"I have to get home to Lorna." Gideon said immediately.

"They're on their way, Gid. No time. We have to get out before they close the floo."

"They know where we live."

_Old house. _"The old Greengrass estate." Astoria said, stepping into the circle as if she were as big as the men. "It is well fortified. If we can get there, we will survive, but we must go now."

The band looked at each other for a long moment before they nodded in unison. One, however, seemed unsure of his decision. Kirley shook his head, long hair swinging back and forth. Astoria knew that look. This man was about to do something utterly stupid. "I need to go home. What if they went for my family?"

"You'll die if you leave from here." Astoria responded, turning on her heel. She wasn't going to wait around for hem hawing grown men. They could live or die, but _she _was going to live. She wasted no time in marching to the fireplace. There was nothing too terrible about leaving others to die. They would either learn or become victims. Grabbing the floo power, she narrowed her eyes toward her uncle and threw the dust down. "Old Greengrass Manor!"

Stepping out into the empty den area, she began coughing slightly from the soot and the hazy smoke that filled the room. There was little time for her to step forward before three men walked through with a burst of green flames. A long moment later, two more came.

Merton stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. "They should be coming."

"They have to be coming." The bassist responded. "They _must_ be coming."

Only one staggered through the green flames. Astoria watched with wide eyes as the man fell onto the dusty wooden floors, blood seeping from his neck. It was a terrible vision, a nightmare. She had heard of such horrors, expected them from the war that was happening all around. Even so, she had never seen it first hand. She lived in darkness to remain in the dark. With dark came limited vision. Limited vision brought peace of mind. Peace of mind…was gone forever.

Merton raced forward, pulling the Donaghan's body from the soot covered fireplace. "Orsino, help."

The percussionist raced forward, leaning down to access the situation. Below, resting on the floor, Donaghan spoke in a rattling murmur. "Kirley…"

"Where is he? Donny! Where's Kirley? Gideon?"

Losing consciousness, the drummer allowed his head to sink to the floor, blood pooling beside his mouth. "Dead."

Astoria helped to led the men to an empty bedroom on the first floor. She could remember the house layout from when she was younger and her family had enough money for the upkeep. It had been so long, but the memories were like riding a broom. Once you learn, you know. That bedroom was large, bedecked with beautiful, ornate décor and a deep burgundy bedspread. The fabric was dilapidated and dusted from lack of use. It was obvious that house elves had been taken to cover debts.

She took refuge on the second floor, in the dark confines of her father's old study. Books lined the walls, packed away in dark wooden shelves. Upon the large desk sat a stack of unused parchments. Dust, dust all over memories.

In the far reaches of the house, she could hear crying again. Male crying, that deep sort of guttural sobbing that males sometimes do. Kirley Duke, lead singer of the Weird Sisters, was dead. Gideon Crumb, one of the best bagpipe artists in Europe, had been obliterated. Astoria could imagine his red curls matted with even darker red blood. Nightmare images invaded then, spawned from the realization of death. She was in the middle now. Edging between fear and anger.

A tapping snapped her out of her reverie. Her head lifted to glance toward the window. An owl flapped its wings obnoxiously there, obviously irritated with idea of glass being in its way. She jumped up, knowing that any message sent to the old manor would be a matter of life and death. Flinging the window open, the bird dodged inside, hooting irately. It dropped the parchment and didn't wait for a response, darting out the window once more.

"Bloody hell…"

Letters from Nott were a bad omen, like seeing the Grim. She pulled the parchment apart and stared at the thin script.

"Congratulations on surviving." Her hand dropped to her side and she glanced toward the window, as if Theodore Nott were standing on the dirty, leaf-ridden terrace among the weeds and overrunning creeper vines. Sighing, she lifted the paper again to see if there was anything more. Tiny block letters met her eyes. "If you received this and are, indeed, alive, write back. There is much you must know."

"Tori, we need some help in here." Astoria didn't ignore her Uncle as she would've done before. No, she sighed, folding the parchment to slide it into her jean pocket. She was cold, but the desperation, fear, and sadness in her Uncle's eyes made her feet move. She would reply to Nott later. For the time being, let him worry, if that's what Notts do, for a little longer.

The next day, the Ministry fell.

Side note: Always _read _said letters. Slytherin men always have a purpose for writing or they would forgo the act altogether. If a letter is not read, injuries are probable.

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A/N: Ah, yes. I wanted to put the Weird Sisters in for some reason. Just to see her reaction to the biggest stars in Wizarding Britain. Therefore Merton Graves (cellist of the Weird Sisters) is her Uncle through her mother. I can't thank everyone enough for their kind reviews. I do hope that everyone enjoyed this installment. Don't worry. The guys of Slytherin will be back next chapter. Please leave me some feedback! Until next time!

Disclaimer: JKR owns it all.


	11. Loyalty

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Loyalty: the state or quality of being faithful to commitments or obligations. Slytherin men have it, contrary to popular opinion.

There was a terror in the air. It was thick, oppressing and dangerous. Astoria could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest, even as she kept her eyes down. She knew when it was best to fly under the watchful eyes of the Death Eaters, boarding the Express was that crucial time when she decided to lower her chin slightly. If they should notice her, life would be very difficult. Even impossible.

"_Please, be careful, Tori." _Her uncle had said with sincerity as he helped her to the door of King's Cross. His dark sunglasses hid most of his face and the fedora did the rest. "_I still think you should've remained home."_

_"No, I'm going to school. I'm pureblooded, a descendant of the Graves and Greengrass clans. I will not—" _Her uncle's arms wrapped around her shoulders. She went completely still. It was the first time in years she had received a hug, much less from a family member.

_"You sound like your Mum. Be careful, Tori. We're always ready to help you, me and the mates. Don't do anything reckless." _

Reckless. She was not reckless by nature. Slytherins were not reckless. They got shit done. End of story.

Even so, she noticed the Death Eaters, who seemed to be posing as Ministry agents, standing at the doors to the Express. Her parents were disloyal, thus she would be viewed as disloyal unless she could prove otherwise. This was the time of staying alive, of desperation.

You know what they say about desperate times…

Pulling her luggage toward the train, she heard a voice that she vaguely recognized. Eyes skittering toward the doors, a head of dirty blond hair had her scowling. That boy was thick. He was _arguing_ with the stationed Death Eaters.

"I'm a student of Hogwarts!"

"Doesn't bloody matter, mudblood. You are not allowed aboard the train." A short, stubby man responded, shaking his head. "You must be registered with the Ministry."

She saw him take a step back. People were watching from all directions. She had never paid attention to Bran Wilson, but the complete horror on his face was obvious and made her lower her eyes to the floor. He was going to die here. Or he was going to Azkaban and _then _he was going to die. Either way, the prognosis was the same.

"The muggle-borns are forbidden from Hogwarts." A voice said behind her. She didn't move, nor turn her head. She knew exactly who it was. "Wilson was foolish for even trying."

"That's just his character." Astoria responded immediately, shaking her head. "Foolish abandon."

"You!" She jumped, facing the Death Eater that was smirking at her. "I would recognize you anywhere, Greengrass."

She didn't respond, finally lifting her eyes from where Wilson was still arguing.

"You have some nerve showing up here, little traitor."

"My parents are the traitors. Not me. I have not once defected from the cause." Astoria responded equally. She had to remain calm and composed. If they sensed the fear in her heart, everything would be over. She would be dead. "I am of noble birth and the highest blood quantum."

"The blood of traitors is not clean." The Death Eater responded, stepping forward. "I wonder what the Dark Lord would do with you."

Astoria had to think quickly. She had to 'prove' her 'loyalty.' With no other idea in mind, she turned toward Wilson. The Death Eaters froze. Most students were already on the train, taking refuge from the harsh reality on the platform. There were already two unconscious bodies on the other side. Most likely students like Wilson. Mudbloods with death wishes. Her wand whipped through the air, making the loudmouth idiot fall to the station floor. His eyes flew wide as she circled. "Must I prove my loyalty then?" She wondered aloud, fingering the end of her wand. "What if I make this mudblood disappear? One less to fret over…" Wilson scooted back on his hands and knees, terrified.

"Greengrass…" She heard Nott murmur in warning.

She flicked her wand, causing Wilson to fall flat on the floor. She moved to stand over him. With a smirk, she leaned down, placing a small amulet in his left hand. "Do you know how to survive in ice, Wilson? I told you that I can kill and skin a rabbit, if I need to. You look like a scared ickle bunny right now."

His eyes widened in fear when she turned back to the waiting Death Eaters. "My parents may have been disloyal but I _loathe _disloyalty. Shall I rid the Earth of one more mudblood?"

Those dark robed figures smirked.

Eyes were watching from the windows of the Hogwarts Express. Nott crossed his arms and allowed a cold smile on his face.

With a wave of her wand, Bran Wilson disappeared.

She stood in silence for a long moment. It had to have worked. There was no choice if it failed.

"The train is about to leave." The primary Death Eater said with a chuckle. "You are nearly as cruel as your father once was."

"I can only hope. He trained me." She smirked, tossing her thin hair over her shoulder. She walked back toward Nott, grabbing her luggage and starting for the door. The Death Eaters said nothing, accepting her intentions and loyalty. After all, she had just killed a fellow classmate. No other show of loyalty had been attempted by others.

Nott followed after her.

They found a compartment toward the end of the train, amongst Slytherins. As she passed other compartments, she felt eyes glaring. Let them glare. She had no other choice if she wanted to live. A crime of necessity.

"Malfoy." Nott muttered in acknowledgement, eyeing the blond in the corner. His silver eyes shifted toward Greengrass before he shrugged in apathy and returned his gaze toward the passing countryside.

She noticed that Nott led her toward where Zabini was sitting just on the other side of Malfoy. Parkinson was staring at the hallway, shaking her head every so often as if deep in thought.

"A portkey?" Astoria turned to Malfoy, who had not removed his stare from the window. "To where?"

"Antarctica. My father was proficient at making others disappear." She replied, eyeing Nott. "A trait he passed to me."

"Couldn't kill him yourself, so you left it to nature?" The blond retorted with a snort.

"Nature should've never produced such monstrosities as mudbloods in the first place." Nott said in a very calm voice before Astoria could answer.

Malfoy shrugged.

The train ride was quiet, nearly drenched in silence that seeped like blood into every facet of the compartment. Nott observed her from time to time. Zabini seemed to be watching Malfoy with a keen eye. There was nothing to say. There was nothing that anyone could do to escape the darkness that was creeping in. She felt oppression swallowing them whole.

"You didn't send him to Antarctica." A voice muttered in her ear when they nearly reached Hogwarts. "I don't know where, but you didn't kill him."

Her eyes went wide and Nott leaned back. Fearful, she looked around to notice that no one else was listening. No one had heard his statement. "I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about." She hissed.

There was a light chuckle when she felt warm air brush against her ear. Her eyes stared at the opposite side of the compartment, just over Malfoy's head, which was leaning against the window. "Clever…" Nott whispered. "Very cunning of you, Greengrass."

"You saved me from death, Nott. Why would you do that?" It was an attempt to distract him, to sidetrack him.

"Why…because you may become quite useful to me." He responded, leaning closer. She saw Zabini smirking to himself. He _was_ listening. A master of appearances. Parkinson wasn't paying a lick of attention. There was no doubt there. Malfoy… was in his own world. "I'm a Death Eater, Greengrass. You are sitting with three Death Eaters. Act accordingly." It was a threat, rumbling though his chest. Astoria stiffened.

"I'll act how I see fit." She bit out.

"Don't we all?"

"I—"

"We all have our own reasons for our actions. You are no different. Just remember that you owe your safety to _us_." Astoria stared in shock. He must've been kidding. They each knew what she had done. That she had _saved_ that mudblood. They didn't know that she had sent him to the old Greengrass Manor, where the band was still residing. Even so, they were keeping their mouths shut. In their silence, they were saving her in turn. "There's loyalty and then there's _loyalty_… There will be a time when we must be loyal to each other only. I…will not tolerate disloyalty. None of us will."

Malfoy continued to stare out of the window. Zabini nodded his head with resolute fervor. Parkinson let out a puff of air.

Astoria realized it then. There was no longer just Death Eaters and mudbloods, Harry Potter and the Dark Lord. There were just them and the world. Circumstances called for them to become a self-sufficient island unto themselves. Loyal to those that were loyal. Honor among colleagues and friends. Devotion to the cause, the cause of survival. And they were regarded with fear. Others entered their group, but none were completely faithful to their ideals. _Anything to survive. _Nott, Zabini, Parkinson, Malfoy, Greengrass, Georgia Yaxley, David Johnson…Others. _Many others_ with green and silver about their necks. This collection did not include buffoons like Crabbe and Goyle, who merely followed like clods without thought. No, the Slytherins that Astoria became entangled with were the greatest of conmen and frauds.

The elite students. Blood purity unmatched. Determination to outlast the war.

They tortured without regret. They laughed at others pain.

The means.

The means…Desperate measures kept them alive.

Side note: Loyalty is not just an ideal among Slytherin males. You live and die by your loyalty.

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A/N: Hurrah, plot twist. Blackmail is always nice. Anyway, at first, I had her actually "killing" Bran, but I decided that it went against her character. She's too strong to kill for a cause like that. Regardless, I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. I can't thank everyone enough for the reviews, favorites and alerts. It makes my day a little brighter with every word I recieve. All the best until next time!

Disclaimer: JKR owns it all.


	12. Food

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Don't bite the hand that feeds you.

She hadn't slept well in months. She hadn't taken the time. Many nights were spent using unforgivable curses on half-bloods and problem students. She was sure that some of those students looked at her as if she were crazy. Her image was not that of a Death Eater. She was slight, thin, and appeared almost sickly. Eating had become rather difficult and her hair was starting to fall out.

There were no letters from the manor. No word of safety. It was possible they were all dead.

If that were the case, she would be dead. Or it could be just as well. There would be no evidence that she had led them into hiding.

She spent a majority of her time observing others. Studies were the lowest of priorities. Really, studies were the last of _everyone_'s priorities. It seemed most students were in an inferi-like state, like the walking dead. They were all dead, in a way.

If too grave an offence was made, death.

If she didn't walk the line correctly, death.

If word got out of her defection, death.

Death.

Everywhere.

Her head leaned onto her hand as she heard another scream pierce the air.

It was her night off.

She was a Mistress of torture. "Uncanny, your likeness to your father." Carrow had said, haggle tooth prominent. All grotesque in his mutant love for fear. "Bred for the art, it seems."

Astoria didn't like the sound of that, but it kept Carrow smirking. If that was all it took, a few screams from a third year, she could keep going.

However, Astoria knew the limits of those she was torturing though. She learned through experience. Father had said 'prisoners insane with Cruciatus cannot answer questions.' Thus, she was introduced the unforgettable feeling of flames in her veins. She was ten at that time.

Every Saturday night, it was a task they all had come to practice, in the darkest of dungeons, those deepest set in the Earth, where screams couldn't be heard by the withering castle above.

It had been started around November, when the leaves began to change.

Someone took a session too far. The boy would never be the same again. 'Irreparable damage,' they said. Most tried to ignore the silent tears of the girl that had been his preverbal executioner. She was in Astoria's year. Georgia Yaxley. Even Astoria had tried to ignore her tears. Ignoring tears was a skill, learned upon passing through the dungeon doors. It was especially crucial at times such as this when sniffles echoed in the silence.

It was Nott that spoke up first. "You need to learn the limit. We all must know the limit."

The crowd was restricted to those that were loyal. Loyal, not to the Dark Lord, but to the House. Not to parents, but to the peers around them. Those that followed others kept away from the uninviting stares and glares of their peers. Buffoons like Crabbe and Goyle kept with the Carrows. Tracey Davis and Ring Burroway, half-bloods who supported Harry Potter, were often in the library. They were smart to steer clear, away from everyone else.

Without warning, Nott lifted his wand at the girl. "_Crucio._"

Her screams and shrieks echoed in the common room. Astoria's face remained entirely passive. It wasn't punishment. It was a lesson. Yaxley would now know how far she could push the students she was ordered to torture. She would know how far to go. If the Carrows ordered more, then she would do so, but the Carrows liked to give the orders and move on, not stick with the same idea for very long. Short prats that they were, they also had short attention spans.

"_Crucio."_ Nott declared again, tossing the aim of his wand toward the chuckling David Johnson. "Do you understand, Johnson?"

"I—" Johnson's voice was overridden by a scream, ripping out of his throat loudly.

"Nott…" Zabini started from where he leant against the back of the sofa. It was merely a caveat, counsel not to push too far.

"They need to know." Nott responded quietly. "They must know their limits."

Both students continued to scream and writhe. Some eyes became vaguely concerned. Any longer and they would be driven crazy.

"Nott…" Astoria murmured from where she continued to read.

He raised an eyebrow and motioned his wand. The screams stopped, but the whimpering began. Weakness was frowned upon, but a few of their friends rushed forward. In mere minutes the shaking bodies were gone. Nott slipped away into the boy's dormitories. Zabini made mention of a woman friend waiting in a corridor broom closet.

Astoria was left alone.

Her fondness of isolation was waning. It seemed the nights were longer than before. It seemed the sun was dimmer every day. Her friends, at least, what could be defined as such, they had their own problems. Nott, though he would deny it, was suffering from insomnia. Zabini was struggling with acceptance of his mother's death. She had been bolting for Germany. Her death had been splashed all over the Daily Prophet. Pansy wasn't a friend. Malfoy…was an unknown. He spoke little, ate less, and reacted to nothing.

She leaned forward, arms wrapped around her stomach. It hurt terribly, her stomach that is. Perhaps it was from hunger. She hadn't eaten dinner. Lunch had been a piece of bread and a side of writhing Gryffindors. Unintelligent bravado merely bought pain, Astoria thought, it just borrowed a moment of victory. Shocked faces and a momentary glimpse of hope.

The Gryffindors were fools.

Images crashed through her mind, like a train thrown off its tracks. It seemed she wasn't able to stop them. She wasn't able to push away her guilt.

Guilt. Remorse. Regret.

There were many words to describe it. Astoria could live in denial or she could acknowledge her emotions. And the truth was: she felt shame for some of the terrible things that she had done.

They were out of necessity, of course, but when a little boy not older than twelve is crying out for his mudblood mother while your wand is raised….

Or when a little girl refuses to stand in show of courage against the regime and ends up in the Hospital Wing…

When fools like Longbottom and Weasley endure all the pain in the world for one single hope…

When she allowed herself to become an agent of despair.

Astoria felt her stomach tighten and the pain began. She swallowed relentlessly, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was so difficult that it caused physical pain. Her face was shaking as she breathed in and out. Tears were the victor in the end. She could never win. They slid down her cheeks.

She stared at the coffee table for a long time, just allowing the sweet water to fall.

She only tortured to live. She only did what she had to do. And she swore in that moment that she wouldn't let the war, the Death Eaters, or the Dark Lord himself make her do one thing:

Astoria Greengrass decided that she would never kill.

Astoria was many things: a liar, a torturer, a pureblood, and a Slytherin. Honor stopped at petty murders. Honor was something she would not lose whether it be for her House, her family name, or herself.

Her green eyes stared at that space on the table for what must've been hours before a foreign object entered her line of vision. A pale hand placed a green apple there. It snapped her out of her trance and she followed the arm up to the face.

Malfoy stood expressionless, as he had been for most of the semester. Even so, she saw a flicker of some nameless emotion in his eyes. It was always his eyes that betrayed emotion. Steel gray eyes. "Eat."

She felt the surprise on her face, cheeks still wet with tears. "Excuse me?"

"You're useless if you die of starvation, aren't you?" He responded. She stared in wonder. Draco Malfoy still had a voice. Even more shocking than that, he had used it to speak to her. His eyes rolled. "Eat the bloody apple."

With seemingly no more wisdom to give, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, turned on his heel and made for the male dormitories. There was no swagger to his steps. His once-upon-a-time arrogance was gone.

Before he could disappear entirely, she gave two words in response as she reached for the apple. Two words she never thought she'd live to say. Specifiically to Draco Malfoy.

"Thank you."

Side note: Sometimes, food is all that keeps you alive. Aceept the offer if ever it is given.

* * *

**A/N**: The next chapter will be coming shortly. I hope that every enjoyed this chapter. I really adored reading all the wonderful reviews. Thank you everyone for your kind words, alerts, and favorites. I hope that everyone can see the sort-of s transformation in Astoria. Things are about to get even more intense! All the best until then!

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of J.K. Rowling.


	13. Stand

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Slytherin men can stand for anything they deem worthy of their efforts. Once that decision is made however, their minds are like castle of Hogwarts, never-changing.

She didn't leave the school for Christmas holiday. She had nowhere to go even if she wanted to escape those cold stone walls. Such was the case with most students. They clumped up into groups, forming miniature families unto themselves. Astoria, though she would hate to admit it, was part of a forming group. Of course, this didn't mean that they exchanged foolhardy gifts or shared in pudding. They simply sat together, spoke when needed, and offered a sense of community to each other. For them, it was more than enough. Family was not made through exchanged presents and pleasantries. They knew that better than most.

The tables were fuller than they should've been. It was a testament to the war raging outside. Still, there was a dull hum of talking, some laughter thrown in from time to time. The Wizard Crackers that had laid upon the table in years before were long gone. Nothing was left in their place. Perhaps that was why the Great Hall seemed so quiet.

The hall was decked with the signature twelve Christmas trees. Once upon a time, Astoria had looked at that scene with the fondness of a child. Now, it seemed the lights were dulled.

"I see no sense in doing it tonight." Nott murmured over his turkey. He kept a cool air in his tone, but Astoria knew otherwise. She had to by that point. "The Carrows can wait until after Christmas. Give us a break for once."

"They said it's Longbottom." Zabini responded, shaking his head. "That dolt sure is a determined little wanker, isn't he?" With a low chuckle, he reached for the potatoes. Astoria couldn't help but notice the odd appreciation in his tone. Longbottom was a sight. His injuries were largely that of Crabbe and Goyle. Others had more finesse than those barbarians. Such as, no one from the 'honorable Slytherins' would ever scar the face. That was certainly considered bad form.

It was the irritation in Nott's features that made her pause, fork halfway to her mouth.

"They requested you take care of it, Nott." Pansy informed him, sniffing. "They said this evening, after the feast."

Astoria's eyes skittered toward the Heads table. There were no smiles, just hateful scowls. In the trek of her eyes back to Nott, she found a pair staring blatantly at her. He tried to pin her down with his gaze, but failed in doing so. Astoria narrowed her eyes at Crabbe and returned her attention to the man across from her.

She continued to feel as though she were being watched. Her spine stiffened when she saw him stand in her peripheral vision. When a hand landed on her shoulder, moving close to the bare skin of her neck, she cringed.

"'Ello, mates." He greeted, leaning forward. His neck looking thicker at that angle. "Up for a little fun tonight, Greengrass?"

Her eyes widened in shock. This fool was out of his bloody mind. Too many praises for his torturing prowess. It had his head growing by the day. To someone who has never been complimented before, a few well-placed compliments could make them insane with arrogance. Such that Crabbe had the nerve to bring his hand along the back of her neck.

Astoria pulled in a gasp. "You —"

"Step away, Crabbe. Now. You don't want to cause a scene." Astoria's gaze turned to Nott, who held his wand on the table. Nott's drawl was lazy and bored.

"You can't tell me what to do, Nott. You have no power here." A round of almost crazed laughter came from behind her. "Nor do you, Zabini, so put your wand up."

"I'll telly you where I'll put my wand!"

She relized that his hand was still on her neck, holding under her hair. It was hot there, sweating against her skin. She felt sick. "You think you're all so clever. Well, I'm not that stupid. I know when somethin's up!"

Astoria moved as slowly as possible, taking her wand from the table. As he spoke, she put her arm over her stomach and pointed the wand toward her back.

"Crabbe!" Malfoy's voice broke in from nowhere. "How dare-"

But she was already in the action of muttering a curse. It was too late for Crabbe to be saved. "_Incendio._"

A shout made the entire hall go still. Astoria turned in her seat, face completely serene. A smile almost made an appearance on her face as Crabbe jumped about. His desperate attempts to put out the fire before it got to his bits might've been in vain if it wasn't for the quick help of Professor Snape.

Astoria watched, her mouth cracking in a wide smirk, as the front of Crabbe's flaming trousers were drenched with water.

She saw Nott stand immediately, seeming both shocked and pleased. Zabini was clapping in an almost patronizing fashion.

Astoria's eyes went to the young man standing just ten feet away. He watched as Crabbe was helped up by Goyle and taken out of the Hall before his gray eyes slid to her. They stood like that for a few moments, simply observing each other.

She couldn't tell, but it seemed that he was trying to hide any sort of emotion. It was truly too bad that she was good at reading his expressions. It truly was his eyes that gave him away. Draco Malfoy was impressed.

"Miss Greengrass," Astoria snapped her head toward the voice, finding a very inquisitive Headmaster Snape staring down at her. "What is the meaning of this?"

"She was just telling him to keep it in his pants, Professor." Zabini interjected with a snort. "Dinner and a show. Happy bloody Christmas."

"Zabini, if you will keep that trap closed…" Snape eyebrows rose in a show of appraisal. "I assume this was…self-defense?" Self-defense? No. She didn't _have_ to set his trousers on fire. What was it exactly? Jolly good Christmas entertainment, that's what.

"Of course, sir." Astoria responded. Snape's chin rose just a bit and his eyes narrowed as he stared down his long nose. He didn't buy it.

"Ten points from Slytherin for excessive force, Miss Greengrass." He said, shaking his head. Ten points was a meager punishment. No detention, no lines…It led many to believe that Snape loathed those dull idiots as well.

Excitement over, Astoria fell back into her seat. Snape returned to his place at the Head's table. Malfoy disappeared again. His destination was a mystery. Perhaps he retreated to the Astronomy Tower. He frequented that area of the castle. Astoria had assumed it was because the screams would get carried away by the wind. There were some amused comments around her and it became just a glimmer of amusement in the shroud of blackened doldrums. Astoria thought the rest of the evening would pass without incident, without another event.

It wasn't until those on duty for torture sessions were gathering at the doors that she found herself shocked once again.

She had assumed that Nott was simply finishing his meal before starting for the dungeons. Minutes passed, those became an hour. She remained at the table, sitting across from him in silence. He kept his eyes on the table, as if waiting and contemplating.

"Nott." She lifted her head to see Alecto Carrow hobbling toward them, an irritated look on her squat face. "You're due in the dungeons."

Nott didn't lift his head. "I'm not going."

Silence prevailed.

"Excuse me?" Carrow bit out. "What was that, Mister Nott?"

"I'm not going." He responded quietly. "It is Christmas and I refuse to take part in your shenanigans this evening. You are quite fortunate that I am not making my refusal public. It would get the other Houses into a frenzy. Can't have that now, can we?"

"Just who do you think—"

Astoria felt her heart rate triple. It was pounding against her chest. What was Nott thinking?

"I am Theodore Josiah Nott, descendent of both the Rosier and Nott clans. My purity is far beyond your furthest hopes, Carrow." He stated, his chin rising. He caught Astoria's eyes for a single moment. That look exhaled all her fears. He had a plan. "And you dare to order me about?"

"That's not—" _How this works_…Astoria finished in her head.

Nott smugly crossed his arms. "I refuse to clean up tonight, Professor. Find a second year to do so." He shrugged before starting to stand. "I have better things to do with my time. Like study my pureblood lineages for History of Magic." His sarcastic tone had Carrow's mouth opening and closing like a fish.

He motioned for Astoria to follow and she did so immediately. With Zabini and Parkinson already in the common room, that left them walking in the darkened corridors alone. Nott's pleased grin never left his face.

"What was that all about?" Astoria questioned.

Nott stopped suddenly and turned his face toward her. The cold smile was gone. Now there was an expression she couldn't quite place. "It's Christmas."

"As if that would stop you from—"

"The anniversary of my Mother's death. She died in a house fire when I was seven."

Before Astoria could formulate a response, he entered the common room leaving her in the corridor alone.

She walked to the opposite wall and slid down, her knees raised in front of her. She felt a disconnect from the world.

It may well have been the anniversary of his Mother's death. Astoria didn't know for sure. What she did know, she wished for ignorance of. Nott was simply tired of torturing for survival. He could play the calm, collected creature as much as he wanted. He could be scheming and ruthless when he had to be. Ultimately, Astoria realized that Theodore Nott still had a soul. He was still human. And he was tired of being used as a tool.

That was the short truth of it.

She tilted her head back against the stone wall of the dungeon corridor. In a strange concoction of noises, she heard what sounded like Christmas carols being sung in the distance, but even closer than that, from the depths below, she heard screams.

In that moment, she was tired of it too.

Side note: Of course, it always possible to change their minds. It simply requires a simple curse and good aim.

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A/N: This chapter was a lot of fun to write. I hope it was a lot of fun to read too! Sorry for the slow update. Very busy. I have finished writing Astoria's Guide and I really would like to finish posting it as soon as possible. There are four more chapters, I think. Please leave me some feedback. Thanks for all the reviews! Over one hundred now, wow! All the best out there.


	14. Intentions

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

You may never learn a Slytherin man's true intentions.

Months passed, as they tend to do. Most of those who had left for Christmas holidays had not returned. Of course, this was due to death, fear, or imprisonment. Most likely the latter of the choices as it seemed Death Eaters preferred torture over death. The school was becoming something of a war zone itself. Torture sessions were no longer confined to the dungeons. Children were struck down in the corridors, in the Great Hall, on the grounds, even in class. It was a miracle to arrive at class on time with the traffic caused by unconscious or semi-conscious bodies in the halls. Picture if you will...

Astoria generally stepped over these bodies, eyes forward.

That was until the bodies she was stepping over had green and silver ties around their necks.

This caused her to pause just outside of the Muggle Studies classroom. And she was aware that Alecto Carrow was inside those doors. Most likely, it was a trap. Astoria was no fool. Carrow was the fool for thinking so.

Astoria was a 'conniving and callous little girl', or so Amycus Carrow had described her. She was far more clever than they would ever know. They all were. The Slytherins were against the regime (at least most of the Slytherin population at this point) and the Carrows were none the wiser. Snape knew. Snape always knew.

He just didn't seem to care.

And Greengrass had found her…calling in the silent movement. Of course, they didn't do such blatantly ignorant things like that Dumbledore's Army. The Slytherins didn't need some ridiculous name. They were Slytherins. That was a unifying factor enough. No banner or flag. No silly little recruitment signs. Just the knowledge that if one was going down, they all were. And, if they were going down, they would do so with their heads held high.

It was a strange ideal for Slytherins to adapt. Once upon a time, the House had been completely individualistic. It was now what some might call a nest of survival. It is human nature to band together in times of struggle. Astoria realized that the Slytherins were no different. Unity in the face of adversity. They just had their own way of going about things.

She glanced down to the unconscious face and felt her pulse quicken.

Nott's usually well-kept hair was wind-swept and messy.

Her eyes moved to the other body. From the hand, she knew it to be Blaise Zabini. He was wearing his father's heirloom ring.

If she stopped, she would be condemning herself to torture and self-incrimination. If she didn't stop, they would endure more pain. To any other House, this would've been a snap decision. To her, it was a fork in the road. Between loyalty to oneself and to her peers. It was the parting of ways, so to say.

The corridor emptied, students trickling into classrooms as she continued her inner debate, biting her lip in uncertainty.

"We must understand what we've gotten ourselves into…" Nott had said nearly a month before as a large group sat about the common room. It was one of the clandestine meetings, when all of those not loyal were off being lapdogs. "We're not on a side."

"We _are _on sides." A young man responded from the stairs. "Look at your arm, eh? Look at Zabini's. Look at _my_ arm. Either way this war goes, we're screwed."

"I won't lie and say that the picture is all roses and butterflies." Nott murmured, shaking his head. "We've made our beds, now we must lie in them." Astoria lifted her head from her arm and turned to face him.

He looked so old as he stood by the fireplace, an arm out to prop against the mantle. There was once a time when he had been a solitaire, a lone wolf. Now, it seemed he had somehow become the alpha of a pack with no course and no moon to guide it. Nott had become their leader, that thinning slip of a man.

"There are about twenty of us that will die as soon as the Dark Lord wins." Zabini said, slinking further into the leather chair he had confiscated from a second year just minutes before. "A good number more will die in subsequent times."

"What about those of us in good standing?" Georgia Yaxley asked, wringing her hands.

Parkinson was the first to answer. "Then remain that way, but remember that should Potter win the day…the positions will be reversed. It will be a game of chance in the end." Astoria raised a single brow. Parkinson had some wits about her. It seemed the war was sobering her up though Astoria had always known Parkinson to be smarter than she let on.

"Whatever the course you choose, remember that it is for self-preservation. The only loyalty is to this House and to self. Some of you remain loyal to your family… That is fine, of course. We're not against family." Nott was toeing a very thin line, a very dangerous one. Treason, as one could say. "We're against whatever threatens us. Period."

Astoria nodded, both in the past and the present. "Professor Carrow, I positively loathe trickery."

"Do you, now?" A voice said to her right. She turned only slightly to acknowledge the professor. "It seemed to be your strongest suit, Miss Greengrass. Lying, posing, acting. You play the part so well."

Almost too well. Astoria's chin rose. "Shall I take these men to the hospital wing, Professor? They are impeding the hallway."

"That won't be necessary." Amycus Carrow smirked, circling in a wide arc. Like a vulture. "You see, we received word that there were a few Slytherins who were…aiding Ravenclaw students in concocting a painless draught last night." Astoria stiffened. "Quite an advanced potion for third year Ravenclaws to accomplish..."

"Indeed, Professor Slughorn must be teaching them well." She responded calmly. "Though, I have no idea to what you are referring. You see, both Nott and Zabini were with me in the common room last night. Several students can vouch for this." She sucked in a dramatically worried breath through her teeth. "I would hazard to say that Nott will be…displeased once he awakens."

"Be damned what Theodore Nott thinks!" Amycus roared, pulling his wand from his robes. Astoria didn't move. "I'm no fool, Miss Greengrass! I know it was you who developed the painless draught!"

Astoria almost felt herself becoming bored rather than fearful. So many times she had pulled the bow across these strings. Every time, it worked out the same way. "Sir, I'm not particularly skilled in potion making."

It was always best to hide your Aces in the hole. She had received the worst grades all year in potions for this very reason. Sometimes, hiding your strength will save your hide. She watched as his expression began to change. His gaze slipped behind her. Astoria turned a bit to see the black robed figure of Headmaster Snape stalking toward them, his gaze flickering to the two unconscious men.

"Carrow, do you realize that you have disabled two of our own operatives?" It was a demanding, almost patronizing tone. His drawl seemed somewhat sarcastic. "You had best pray Henry Nott does not hear of this. He's very protective of his son."

"Nott can't-" He paused, and redirected his comment. "Professor Snape, how skilled is Miss Greengrass at the art of potions? You have been her professor until this past year, have you not?"

Astoria felt her heart rate double. Her expression wavered for a mere second. Panic. If she was found out, it would cost them all. She wouldn't be able to save herself, much less the young men on the floor. It would mean the end for them all.

She didn't turn to Professor Snape, choosing rather to stare at Nott's signet ring, a Rosier legacy. '_My mother's last request.'_ He had told her in confidence. _'I'm the last of a whole clan. She told me to wear this ring until I died myself. I expect that to be sooner rather than later so I best start living up to the expectation.'_

Slowly, she allowed her eyes to fall on Zabini's peaceful face. It was a far cry from the usual scowl he had. He often complained of headaches from the way his brows were constantly drawn together. Even so, he couldn't break the habit.

"She's rubbish." Her head snapped around. Snape was staring, almost into her very soul. "It seems the entire Greengrass clan is completely inept at the fine art of potions. You remember, Dominic nearly set the entire classroom on fire with his stupid antics." Snape lifted his chin and looked down at her with a completely serious expression. "It would serve you well to take remedial lessons one day, Greengrass. And perhaps it is best to get Nott and Zabini out of the way lest they turn into floor mats." At that, his head turned toward Carrow. "We have word…"

Carrow threw her one furtive glance before following after the headmaster. It seemed he was unable to question power. A true lapdog.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she reached for her wand. It was almost as if Snape was giving his blessing and best wishes to their endeavors. Not that it was possible for Snape to do so, but that was the impression she got. Snape knew she was particularly gifted in potions.

Such a trend there was. Snape always knew.

Her immediate reaction was to question his intentions. Regardless, she put the second chance to good use though. It could take her whole life to figure out why her Head of House was helping her.

The next week, nearly every person in the castle had the painless potion caplets. If taken before a torture session, not one scrap of pain would be felt. That included the Cruciatus Curse. Truly, a new form of wizarding anesthetic. And it would change the world of wizarding medicene in years to come, though no one would know at that time. And Astoria knew she would never recieve the recognition.

"They'll just write them off as an attempt at sabotage." Nott shrugged, leaning back. The incident was never mentioned. If the younger children heard, they would begin to panic. Leaders were never allowed to show weakness. This went doubly so for Slytherin leaders.

Astoria sighed, shaking her head. "No, I obliviated the Ravenclaw that I gave them to. She's more than equipped to formulate that kind of potion herself. She doesn't know that I gave her the knowledge. Nor does anyone else."

"Save for Carrow." Zabini muttered.

Astoria nodded. Her eyes looked over toward the Ravenclaw table where the young woman sat. There were smiles there. No more pain. "Yes, save for Carrow."

"You should've kept walking. You were a git for thinking of…saving us."

A voice from nearby spoke up. It seemed he was speaking more and more every day. "What was it you said Nott? We're against whatever threatens _us._ It wasn't ignorance that made her stop. It was loyalty." Malfoy turned to face her. No expression, just his dark, sleep-deprived eyes. "Just make sure that loyalty doesn't get you killed." Once again, before she could speak he stood and began to walk away, hands hooked in his pockets.

She turned back toward Nott and the others, a quirk in her brow. "One day, something is going to snap him out of that state. When it does, I bet it is a rude awakening to the world he's in now."

"Astoria," Nott murmured, shaking his head. "Malfoy's already there. He's not shutting off emotions to escape. Malfoy's has shut them off to survive. You are no better."

After that, Astoria understood.

Side Note: Intentions are relative. Ultimately, if those intentions serve in your favor, you would do better not to question them.

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A/N: Wanted to get this up quickly. I am glad that everyone enjoyed the previous chapter and I hope that this one was well-recieved too. Just two more to go. All the best out there!


	15. Warning

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

Boys will be boys. Slytherins will be Slytherins. Combine the two and there will be trouble.

"What of Millicent?"

"She's with Pansy, along with Yaxley. They're on their way to the Death Eater gathering in the Forest. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle are missing too. Higgs is leaving in a moment with a few others to make for the nearest floo. They're running."

"Are you going?" Nott asked in a low voice.

Zabini looked about and slowly shook his head. "I'm not about to risk my neck for either side." Nott gave a curt nod and the table fell into silence. They waited for what felt like forever. Some wondering if their families were amidst the action up at the castle. Some were simply waiting to hear of their fates. Should the Dark Lord win, death would be the only option for most. Astoria was included in that batch. If the Order won the day, at least things would be brighter than pitch.

She looked about the room. There were conspiratory whispers and condemning glances as if they were the ones fighting in black robes and metallic masks. Guilt by association, the age old association fallacy. She sat with green, which automatically, in the tiny minds of the students around us, made her a Death Eater. That sort of linear thinking was something that she loathed.

'The Dark Lord was a Slytherin. The Dark Lord is evil, therefore all Slytherins are evil.' She could see the wheels turning in their condemning eyes. However small those wheels were…

"Bloody imaginative, aren't they?"

No one bothered to respond.

After about ten minutes, a wave of nervous energy washed over her. She couldn't pinpoint the why or how, but her hands began to shake. Astoria gripped the table to hide the quaking. Parents were beginning to arrive one by one through the doors of the bar. Screaming and crying were simply the soundtrack of the night.

She began to feel sick a moment later. She shifted in her seat, swallowing the bile in her throat. "Move." She ordered and Nott stood, letting her out of the bench seat. She made her way toward the loo, sliding into the small room. Two of the three stalls were occupied. She entered the one on the end, her knees hitting the floor beside the toilet. Wretching, she tried to do so in silence so that no one would know, she felt tears prickling her eyes. She knew that while they were taking refuge in Hogsmeade, people were dying. The final battle was waging and yet there she was, hiding. Living up to the Slytherin name. She was a coward.

"A-are you alright?"

She coughed, placing her hand to her mouth. "I'm fine." Pulling up, she smoothed out her cloak. Sweat beaded on her brow but she ignored it and exited the small cubicle.

"Do you need any—" The young woman's voice stopped when she saw who it was. Astoria recognized the girl as a Gryffindor fourth year, one that she had tortured once at the beginning of the school year. "Oh." The girl turned on her heel and exited, leaving Astoria alone.

And Astoria didn't expect any sympathy or help. Walking to the sink, she splashed water on her face, trying to rid herself of the dreadful feeling. She stepped out, coming face to face with the seemingly ever-present Theodore Nott. She couldn't help but notice slight concern on his face.

"—could be dead! They said he's dead! We must go! We have to go now!"

"What's happening?" Astoria asked, allowing him to lead her through the crowd, pushing people out of the way as he did so. They arrived back at the table where everyone was standing, listening intently.

"They say Harry Potter is dead, but there is no way to know for sure. We have no sure information. It's only hear-say."

"—need to help. Now! Professor, we must!"

They watched as Professor Slughorn looked about almost desperately before his eyes hardened. He was a seasoned Slytherin. Surely he would refuse such a cockamamie idea — "Prepare yourselves! We are going to fight. Be it to death or life." In a great yell, a large number of the room stood at once, readying themselves, pulling wands and preparing to fight. Families narrowed their eyes in unison, following the professor out of the door.

Astoria was frozen in place. Some small part of her wanted to follow the others out, to fight. The idea was ludicrous. Absolute madness.

Before anyone had time to say a thing aloud, Nott stepped forward. "I'm going."

"You're _what_?" Zabini breathed. He sounded a bit offended.

Nott turned only his head. "I won't die a coward. Not anymore. I'm through hiding in a hole. Now's the time."

His words struck Astoria hard. They resonated; it seemed, in her very soul. She could see the glint in his eyes, the bravery shining through. Slytherins were deemed cowards because they can see the futile nature in a situation. Self-preservation is, was, and always has been key. However, she understood his decision. In that moment, her mind was decided, too. She stepped up beside him. "Let's go."

Slytherins…They knew when to choose one evil over another. While they didn't agree with Potter, they were not about to support the hell they had been subjected to within the past year.

So, they kept to the back of the group, receiving some glares, some confused glances. None of that bothered them. It was only a small group of Slytherins. Most would not risk it, though there were some: Nott, Zabini, Johnson, Baddock, and a newcomer, who ended up coming from another table, James Abernathy. Some others trailed behind, looking far less than enthusiastic.

Parents were shouting. Professor Slughorn was at the head of the line when they all began to run. With her heart beating so wildly, Astoria felt as if she were running toward her own death. Something she had been doing all year…Something that was likely.

It was an understandable fear, but she couldn't bring herself to turn back. She reached for her wand, pulling it from her inside-cloak pocket. The vine felt smooth and somewhat reassuring in her hand as they approached the castle. Spells were being thrown this way and that, bright flashing lights of every different color. She could hear screams, yells, calls for help. They rushed up, surprise evident on the faces of the Dark Lord's followers. The castle was on fire, crumbling into flames with every explosion that rocked the earth.

"Stay close." Zabini had said. Astoria nodded, seeing the necessity. If they were mistaken as enemies, it would most certainly mean death. They kept to the edges, moving quickly and silently, the way they had learned to battle.

They were the sons and daughters of Purebloods: they had been required to train in the arts of dueling, most of them to be of better service to the Dark Lord. Now, they were using those very skills against him. Skills meant to serve but used to upsurp.

Beside her, a small Ravenclaw was hit by an awry spell, sending him flying backward into the darkness. The death toll was rising, but Astoria kept moving, not sparing a glance back. Every instinct within her told her legs to turn away, to run, to abandon the people and spare herself. Two ideals fighting against each other. Slytherin loyalty and that innate intuition that said 'escape'.

A spell flashed its way toward Nott and she acted immediately on instinct. Her wand cast a barrier and it had begun. She operated purely out of loyalty and instinct. She didn't bother protecting anyone with red, blue or yellow ties. It was green that had her on her toes. Nott was a brilliant dueliest, Zabini less so. Astoria was defensive. She covered their backs as they foolishly focused on taking on the most powerful Death Eaters they could find.

Astoria only took her…charity so far. It applied to Slytherins and Slytherins only. There were a fair number of Ravenclaws that had been injured, Hufflepuffs immobilzed and Gryffindors red with blood around her. She didn't spare them another glance.

"Tori! Tori!" She flung herself onto the outside wall of the castle and let out a breath. Nott and Zabini, Baddock and Harper, and Abernathy slammed against the wall a moment after her. Blood matted Nott's hair. Zabini was smirking to himself, throwing a curse toward a frazzled Death Eater who was attempting to escape. "Tori!" Her eyes darted toward where the voice had issued. A head of long brown hair was dashing toward her with break-neck speed, jumping over strewn bodies and bits of the crumbling castle. "Tori!"

"Uncle Merton!" She exclaimed in shock. Zabini turned just a bit, throwing a curse around the corner again. She noticed that three other men were with him, along with a young man who seemed to be looking about with a fierce expression, blond curls hanging about his ears. The remaining members of the Weird Sisters, ran up, out of breath and covered in soot. "What the bloody-"

She reeled back in shock when an explosion rocked the walls, flames leapt and she felt the world go darker. She was flung against the wall, her head snapping against the stone. And she felt a weight against her then, pressing her into the sheltered corner, protecting her from the debris that was raining from all directions. Her eyes closed on instinct. She could feel the heat of flames and the pain of something striking her arm. That body held firm, blocking her from most of the force.

"Myron! To your left!"

"Nott! Nott! Bloody hell, get him!

"Damn it! Donny!"

"Blaise!"

Her eyes opened slowly, head aching terribly. She could still feel her wand in her left hand. When she opened her eyes, she saw a battle raging in front of her. Members of the Weird Sisters, Zabini and Nott were battling two Death Eaters. Her head snapped to the side at the realization that someone had taken the brunt of the explosion.

He smiled widely at her, eyes wide with exertion. "'ello there, Greengrass."

"You bloody idiot!" She shoved him to the side with little care for his injuries.

He stumbled to the side, sliding down onto the grass. Bran Wilson gave an almost amused laugh as he held his bleeding side. "You're welcome."

She didn't have time for his antics. Hurried, she rushed out into the fray...

Somehow, Harry Potter won. It was quick and decisive. It doesn't warrant retelling. Everyone knows the story. By now anyway...

And Astoria found she was elated. There was no threat of death. The guillotine was destroyed. Along with it came the first breath she had taken since her third year. It was a deep gasp of surprise and genuine joy, filling her lungs with new life. Relief.

It was in shock of this, that she found herself where she had been just hours before. She entered the Slytherin common room to find more people present than she had expected. They sat on the stairs, on the couches, on the chairs. Some even allowed themselves to sit on the floor. They sat about in groups, gathering together in fellowship. They had survived.

And there were smiles.

For the first time in years, she saw something that seemed close to a miracle.

No one that was outside of that common room would believe it. In fact, the world would rather assume the worst of the Slytherins, perhaps that they had slunk back down into their dungeons to plot the demise of Harry Potter or that they were lamenting 'their' loss. It was all bullocks.

They were all but lamenting. In the Slytherin common room, there was a private celebration of sorts. Well, by Slytherin standards.

Zabini came from the boy's dormitories, a black patch over his right eye. Astoria watched in silence, somewhat dumbstruck. A bottle of firewhiskey was in his hand and there was a swagger to his step that she thought she would never see again. "Ah, Greengrass. Welcome back."

She nodded slowly, watching as he handed the bottle to Nott. She had lost track of Zabini in the fight. She had been too consumed with her own survival and that of her Uncle to pay any attention. It was something she admitted to herself. Her instinct had been to keep her Uncle safe. The only family that came to protect her.

"Goyle Senior got my eye." Zabini said, falling into the seat next to the fire. "I got his life, so I'll call it even." Grinning, he leaned back. "Besides, it makes me look more ruggedly handsome."

"Did you see them off?"

Astoria turned to Nott. There was a still-bleeding gash along his left cheek and a curse scar along his neck, leading down into his stained white-collar shirt. He had never looked better. "They refuse to leave."

"My father surrendered." Nott said, shrugging. "When Barrington attacked me, Dad killed him. For his betrayal, Westings attempted to kill my father. Needless to say, he didn't succeed." A smug smile crossed Nott's face. She knew what he meant.

"Where's Parkinson?"

"I expect she is halfway to Azkaban right now." Nott said, taking the firewhiskey Zabini had offered him. "Parkinson was never one for patience. She got herself to the side she thought was winning and it backfired. Can't blame her for her choice, however wrong it was."

"Such was the case for many of our contemporaries." Zabini added, shaking his head. "Johnson has been taken to Saint Mungo's before transport to Azkaban. He nearly killed Hermione Granger with a stray curse. Good riddance to bad rubbish either way, I say."

Astoria nodded, moving past them all. Despite the fact that she was part of that group all year, she wanted nothing more than a moment alone. A single solitary moment to absorb just how the world had changed.

She gave Nott a single glance and left the common room once more. She could hear Nott order Zabini to sit, to leave her alone for the time being. There was one place she had in mind. And she arrived there only minutes later. The mid-morning sun stood in the distance, showing the world for what it was: a wreck of crumbled walls and still-burning fires. Hogwarts was decimated. Her…home, for all intents and purposes, was in ruins.

Like a good Slytherin, she tried to push her astonishment from her mind. However, it was impossible. She could see blood stains on the stairs as she climbed her way up.

While the world was nothing but ashes and debris, it was a new beginning. No longer would she need to worry for her own safety, for the safety of those she deemed friends. No longer would she need to fear for her mother and father, or even her idiot sister. There would be no more late-night torture sessions, no more screams, no more nightmares. No more.

She felt herself in a tunnel as she walked to the rail. Only a year before, she had been made the Mistress of the Greengrass family on that tower. Now, it was no longer necessary. Her father would be coming home. Her mother would return as well.

Somehow, the world would right itself.

"You're smiling."

Astoria jumped, turning to the left.

"What do you have to smile about?" Malfoy questioned from where he sat on the small staircase on the other side of the tower. His arms were folded over his knees. She noticed that his hair was mussed up and there was still darkness in his eyes she couldn't place.

"Freedom." She responded, shaking her head. It didn't make sense, even to her.

He shook his head. "There won't be freedom. Just another form of servitude."

She jerked back in surprise. And understood. The smile began to melt from her face as he stood and walked over toward her, hands hooking into his pockets.

"You see now?"

"When do you leave for Azkaban?"

He sighed, turning to face the grounds. "In the morning. They are going to consider our case."

Astoria nodded, unsure how they had come to stand together in so comfortable a state.

"I wonder just how they will consider yours, Greengrass." He said in a dull voice. At her calm expression, he continued. "Your indiscretions, Greegrass."

"Well, certainly, I was made to participate…fear for my family, you know." She said as if it were the truth. It was a lie, they both knew. It was a cover they had all come to practice. Their indiscretions, the Slytherins, how would the Ministry take care of so far-reaching an incident? Of course, the situation had been anticipated. Should Potter come out the victor, they had a plan. Denial of the desire to torture. Which was both the truth and a lie. Veritiserum would be completely useless. They had been secretly building their tolerences all year. This was the brilliant work of Theodore Nott.

Malfoy lifted his brows and allowed a ghost of a smirk to grace his face. In that singular moment, Astoria found that the world had changed again It wasn't in the way she had imagined. She found that her heart began to beat wildly. She found that the smirk she had once been completely apathetic to made her shiver. The world had changed. In the abscence of fear, she allowed herself an emotion she had nearly forgotten. "I wonder how they will view an accessory to attempted murder..."

She maintained her straight face, but inside, her stomach jumped into her throat. "I didn't kill Wilson. He's still alive and still annoying. Believe me, if I thought I could get away with it..."

"Oh, I know. I saw the mudblood earlier. No, I was referring rather to your skill at potions. Particularly poisons." His smirk fell and he turned on his heel. "It'll be interesting to see if you avoid condemnation." And Astoria watched him go. She never saw the way he stopped at the stairwell and looked back at her. By that time, she had already resumed her observation of the burning grounds, contemplating just how the Malfoy heir had discovered her involvement. There was only one very obvious answer to that.

The Malfoy family was acquitted. They avoided all punishment. Their name would never be the same again. It was worth less than a galleon, but they were...free.

Astoria, in a show of slight arrogance, owled the Malfoy heir the following day. Her tone was smug in the letter. She, too, had avoided all punishment. It seemed the world really had changed, for Malfoy responded with an equally curt reply. To which, Astoria neglected to reply.

Warning: Never trust a Nott. Never ignore a Zabini. Most importantly, always reply to a Malfoy male's letter. The latter could result in marriage.

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A/N: Wanted to get this up for all of you! I hope you all enjoyed. There is one more chapter! Please leave me some feedback. I seriously loved all of the reviews I've recieved. All the best!


	16. The Final Guideline

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

_Slytherin boys have more pride than a herd of hippogriffs. Act accordingly. _

_When presented with a situation they are uncomfortable with, Slytherin males will do one of two things: ignore the problem or overreact. _

_Brooding. They all do it. Most think it makes them look appealing. Some have nothing better to do. Few have a real reason. Regardless, it will always be annoying._

_Handsomeness is a common trait shared by many Slytherin men. That being said, when one is ugly, he is a small step from a night troll. Be warned._

_When dealing with a man of the Nott lineage, note that most books they deign to read involve outlawed information. Do not approach. If they want to talk, a Nott will come to you. _

_Slytherin men will find a way to sneak into the girls dorms in all generations. It's been done for nearly five hundred years. No reason that it should stop in the future. _

"_Any means achieve the ends" is what mudblood would call a 'get out of jail free card.' When used by the Slytherin male, he has done something terrible (even by our standards) and uses the phrase to explain his actions without consequence. _

_Slytherin males never apologize._

_Most females will never understand the reasoning of a man. This applies to all Houses._

_The men of Slytherin do not write letters. In the rare instance that a letter is received from a Slytherin male, be sure to check for security curses. Injuries may occur._

_Loyalty: the state or quality of being faithful to commitments or obligations. Slytherin men have it, contrary to popular opinion._

_Don't bite the hand that feeds you._

_Slytherin men can stand for anything they deem worthy of their efforts. Once that decision is made however, their minds are like castle of Hogwarts, never-changing._

_You may never learn a Slytherin man's true intentions._

_Boys will be boys. Slytherins will be Slytherins. Combine the two and there will be trouble._

_These guidelines are of the most secure sort. Should this parchment become compromised, burn it and deny its existence. - AGM_

Astoria sighed, placing her final thought upon the parchment before settling the quill on the dark wood of the study desk. It would have to do. There was only so much time left. Quickly, she folded the paper and shoved it into her cloak pocked. Yes, it would have to do. She stood and started for the study door, hearing the harping she would recieve upon arrival in her mind.

"You're bloody late, you are. You almost missed it. What were you doing? Nott doesn't want to hear any more of your bloody complaining."

"And, what? He told you that over afternoon tea?" Astoria retorted, rolling her eyes. "No, I don't think he did."

"Zabini may lack an eye but he makes up for it with his mouth."

"And you may not have a brain but you make up for it with your mouth as well..." She responded, shaking her head. Silvery hair trailed down her back. She saw him stiffen a bit.

"To think that a bloody letter started all of this."

"You started it when you arrived at my mansion unannounced, waving a letter about in the air claiming that I had stolen your owl."

He snorted. "You did steal my owl. Orion was loyal to me until you came along."

"As I said, I didn't come along. You came to me. Besides, it was Theodore that stole your owl. I had nothing to do with it."

"I knew it. I bloody knew it. Forty years later and the truth comes out. Zabini mouth may still run, but that was a fact he neglected to mention."

"That well may be, but you are well aware that Theodore is standing over there, correct?" She motioned over her shoulder. "I wasn't complaining to him. He gets enough complaining from Selena to make his hair fall out." She nudged him playfully. "Perhaps you should stop giving me things to complain about." She moved past her husband's hunched figure and hobbled toward a head of blonde hair. "Carina, darling, come here."

The head of long blonde hair spun around and a serene smile came upon the child's face. "Grandmother! You made it." Her arms gestured toward her parents, who were speaking with a few others down the line. The Weasley, Potter, Nott and Wood families. The most powerful in all of Wizarding Britain "Father said you'd come."

"Of course, I would." Astoria straightened her back as best she could. It was hunched regardless of her efforts. Old age did that. "I have something for you, my dear. You must not allow your father or grandfather to see it though. They wouldn't understand, close minded fools that they are." She pulled the parchment from her cloak and placed it in the little girl's outstretch palm. "This may help you someday. In the future, do not blame me. It was your mother's idea." That was a lie, but should the men find out at least she would have time to prepare while Rose was taking the brunt. Cleverness didn't fade with old age even though the glory of the body did. Her body never had much glory either way so it was just as well. Draco would dare to say otherwise. This generally earned him a night in the guest room down the hall.

The thing about Malfoy's is their readiness to repent at the idea of sleeping where they are not comfortable. Strange limitation, but Astoria made use of it after nearly forty years of marriage.

Carina Malfoy began to unfold the parchment, but an old withered hand stopped her progress. Astoria turned to see her husband's gray eyes narrow, crow's feet stretching around his eyes. "If I know my wife, it's best you read whatever that is in private."

Their granddaughter grinned and nodded, starting off toward the train, waving dramatically as she climbed aboard. Carina held the wit of a Malfoy and the bemusement of a Weasley.

They watched with aged eyes. And Astoria found herself smiling at the sight. So many children, never having known the world that they had. Of course, there had been many troubles throughout the years. There are always troubles, trials and tribulations. Even so, she realized that there were moments like the one she was witnessing when those terrible times seemed so far away, tucked in dungeons and atop towers, buried with the dead and burnt with the rubble.

"Would you like to know what wisdom I imparted on our granddaughter?" Astoria wondered as Draco took her wrinkled hand in his as they began to walk away from the train.

Draco slowly shook his head, pointed chin rising as it always had. "Guidline number seven:" he smirked. "Most men will never understand the so-called wisdom of a woman. This applies especially to Slytherin women." Astoria's head snapped to the side, eyeing his face warily. His shoulders rose in a shrug. "I went through Scorpius' old school things last night. Some stupid list..."

Astoria gave a good-natured laugh and tightened her hold on his hand as they walked out into the light rain of London. Somewhere in her mind, she could still hear the Express on the rails, the ring of the horn. It seemed so long ago now. So long ago...

Small hands pulled apart the parchment and read the beautifully straggled script of her grandmother's olden hands. "In my life, I have discovered the most vital guideline of all: Good Slytherins live their lives with a secret loyalty and code of honor. It may be different from others, but it has _never_ changed. I expect in years to come, you will face difficulties. That is life, my darling. However, you must always remember that being a Slytherin is to know oneself and those around. The men often muddy things up, like your grandfather. They can be awful confusing at times. Slytherin men are, after all, different from any other House. They are smart, brazen, and often clueless on certain matters. I am certain that you will put this to good use." Sighing, Carina folded the paper and held it to her heart, just above that, her green and silver tie gleamed in the bright mid-day light that blazed through the Express windows.

The End.

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A/N: It has been a pleasure writing this. I am so happy it was so well recieved. This is it. The end. It just started spur of the moment and ended up becoming one of my better recieved stories. Thank you all for the awesome reviews, favorites and alerts.

I'm going on 'fan fiction sabbatical' again. Some small stuff may come now and then, but I simply don't have time to write. All the best to everyone out there and thanks so much for reading!


	17. Carina's Addendum

**Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys**

**By OurLoveIsForever**

**Carina Malfoy's Addendum **

_Slytherin _boys_ will do just about anything to get your attention. _

_Slytherin _men_ will do just about anything for your affection. _

She tried to keep her eyes forward. She truly, honestly made that effort. And it was so very difficult. The urge to look was strong, a pulling force that was pressing the sides of her head. No, straight ahead, toward the board, toward the lesson…Her head slowly turned left.

It was simply amazing that her dear grandmother had missed such a vital aspect of the Slytherin Male psyche. It was fairly apparent to Carina. Perhaps it was a newly acquired trait. That would explain quite a bit. It had to be a mutation and nothing more.

Yes, no sane, self-respecting Slytherin would do what he was doing at that moment, no matter the harsh circumstances or rewards.

Or payouts.

Or penalty of death.

Her brown eyes slid to the scene, trying to keep her mouth straight and schooled.

It was bloody ridiculous. Simply ghastly.

"Mister Zabini, would you please _desist_?" Professor Wood growled, crossing her arms over her thick chest. She was a fierce woman, Professor Wood was; the wife of longtime Quidditch coach of Puddlemore United and Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts for forty years.

Carina leaned back in her chair, reclining to watch the show. It would be jolly good fun to see Zabini receive detention for the _fifth_ time in a week. All in all, it seemed rather redundant. Nothing got through to Gaspare Zabini.

"What the magic word?" He smirked, giving Carina a sidelong glance. As if to make sure she was watching. And Carina made sure to roll her eyes. She knew where this was going. He leaned back and placed his feet upon the desk. "The magic word, professor?"

"You want the magic word, Zabini? DETENTION!"

Zabini flourished his hand as if he were making a point in some fabulous explanation of his wily schemes about the castle.

"Oy, Malfoy!"

Carina kept her eyes forward again, trying to listen to the advanced lesson. NEWTs were only weeks away. Then, graduation. Why did he choose that urgent time to turn his relentless attentions to her?

"Malfoy—"

"Zabini, _shut up_!" Carina spun to face the owner of the annoyed voice. "You're causing us all to suffer. If you want to bother her, do it after class." She glared menacingly at the lazing form of Amias Patil. He sent her a half-smile.

She sighed, placing her head on her hand. Half an hour more and she could escape to her dorm. And the end of class came faster than she thought it would, bringing with it her gleam of hope. A quick nap would help her mood.

"Je suis toujours ici pour toi, mon chérie." A voice said behind her as she exited the classroom, books clasped to her chest. Oh, how she wished he would just give up! "Want to wish me luck on the match tomorrow?"

Carina stopped cold, spinning on a dime to face Zabini. "I do hope you know that I will show no mercy, Zabini. You'd best watch your back out on that pitch, yeah? Who knows, Carson's club might just hit the back of your head by accident." It came out as a hiss. Making use of inter-House connections was a forte of hers. The Ravenclaw beaters would gladly take a bat to Zabini's head if she so wished it.

Zabini stared for just a moment before smiling widely. "You'll be there to nurse me back to health, right?"

Carina began to walk away, determined to ignore the question. His attentions were simply…pointless.

She tightened her hold on her boom, so hard that her fingers began to hurt. The snitch had to be somewhere, somewhere close. Her eyes darted here and there, searching. In her line of sight, she saw Amias shooting for the other goal. Her heart gave a flutter when his fist came up in celebration and a wide grin came to his face.

He always looked better when he smiled.

"Yo, want to pay attention, Malfoy?" Zabini called, flying between her and the sight of their newest goal. "The snitch is over there."

"What—" Her head snapped to the right.

He snickered, speeding past her in a blaze of her team's colors.

It was then that she saw it, hovering just above the grass nearly fifty feet below. Carina had never been the sort to back off from a challenge. Her father said it was a Granger trait since her Grandma 'Mione was vastly determined in everything she had ever done. To Carina, it didn't matter where the trait came from.

She angled her broom down, almost vertical to the ground. Three years of playing Quidditch and it came down to one single moment. In her mind, as she drew closer and closer to the Earth, she saw past events moving before her eyes like a muggle film.

Behind Malfoy Manor when she was just a child, understanding magic for the first time as her father conjured a rose for her mother. Her acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Their proud faces when she received her first set of grades. Setting Bennie Potter's trousers on fire third year when he tried to throw her in the Great Lake. Losing Grandma Astoria and Grandpa Draco at the beginning of her sixth year. They said her heart gave out. He followed a month later. Atop the Astronomy Tower one late September night, gazing at the stars with…

"Carina!"

She wondered momentarily if she could stop in time. The ground was rushing up fast, faster than she ever would have expected. She yanked up with one hand and reached with the other. The grass met her as she collided with the ground. Her mind didn't think of the pain. It didn't think of anything but the snitch.

For a second, as she lay there she saw the snitch hover just over her face before darting off.

She heard a clamoring and a moment later, a face appeared obstructing the sky above.

"Carina, Carina! Can you hear me?" He looked so scared. And her eyes remained glued to his face. She was completely enraptured by the way his dark eyes sparkled against his tan skin. Even when he was frantic, he was perfect to her. His hand came along the side of her face and she found her voice.

"I'm fine."

And Amias seemed to make a decision. She could see it in the set of his jaw. Faster than she could respond, he lifted her into his arms, starting for the locker room and medical witches at the other side of the field.

"What are you doing? Put me down."

He leveled an emotionless stare at her face. "No."

"Amias—"

"Let's shut Zabini up, shall we?" A smirk broke on his face before he leaned forward and place his lips on hers for a mere second. Then with a victorious smile, he looked up toward the players circling above. Carina felt his chest rumble with amused laughter. "There. That should do it, yeah?"

**Side Note:**_ They will also do just about anything to prove a point. Sometimes the lines get blurred._

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**A/N:** I've had this little thing written for a while. I was saving it for the London Premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One, but forgot to post it. There'll be nothing more added to this story, but this hit me just before I decided to go on fan fiction sabbatical. I hope it was enjoyed.

All the best.


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